THE^NEW 


JAMES  -  SHELLEY-  HAMILTON 


JUL23W3 


if-O 

1UL231913 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 


must  salute  our  goddess  .    .   .    and  Bill  shall  lead  us.' 


THE    NEW 

SOPHOMORE 


BY 


JAMES   SHELLEY  HAMILTON 

AUTHOR  OF  "BUTT  CHANLEB,  FRESHMAN" 


ILLUSTRATED 


D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY 
NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON:      MCMX 


COPYRIGHT,  1909,  BY 
D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Published,  October,  1909 


TO 

THE   "BOYS   OF   '06 " 

AND   ALL  OTHER   GOOD   AND   TRUE 
FOLLOWERS   OF 

SABRINA 


2136177 


FOREWORD 


SOME  ingenious  person,  I  am  told,  has  succeeded 
in  ferreting  out  the  place  of  which  I  thought 
"  Tresham  "  was  such  a  clever  disguise,  and  no  longer 
am  I  able  to  conceal  the  shortcomings  of  these 
attempts  to  picture  certain  phases  of  the  life  there 
under  the  protection  of  a  fictitious  name.  So,  al- 
though I  still  cling  to  that  name  out  of  gratitude 
for  the  security  I  once  fancied  it  gave  me,  I  have 
dropped  all  other  subterfuge  and  boldly  call  some 
things  as  they  are  actually  called  by  real  people. 

But  lest  this  story  fall  into  the  hands  of  some 
other  ingenious  person — and  I  am  obtruding  myself 
in  this  preface  for  his  eye  alone — I  wish  to  say  a 
word  of  warning.  Let  no  one  who  may  chance  to 
read  the  following  pages  deceive  himself  with  the 
idea  that  the  key  to  any  mystery  is  contained  therein. 
Not  a  thing  would  I  tell,  for  all  the  world,  that 
might  point  the  way  to  any  holy  of  holies  for  a 
profane  outsider,  and  anyone,  no  matter  how  in- 
genious, who  imagines  he  can  find  a  workable  clue 
to  the  mystery  of  Sabrina  will  search  for  it  in  vain. 
'Ferbum  sap. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — THE  LATE  ARRIVAL i 

II. — SIZING  UP 19 

III. — TRAILING  A  FRESHMAN 43 

IV. — THE  OUTCOME 66 

V. — A  RURAL  ADVENTURE •      97 

VI. — FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME     .       .       .120 
VII. — "OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WAR-PATH  .       .       .       .141 

VIII. — A  TROUBLOUS  INTERLUDE 173 

IX. — THE  BANQUET  THEY  DIDN'T  HAVE         .       .       .201 

X. — THE  GODDESS  HERSELF 233 

XI. — FLIGHT  AND  PURSUIT 260 

XII.— THE  FINISH 283 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 
PAGE 


"'We   must   salute   our   goddess  .  .  .  and    Bill   shall   lead 
US*" Frontispiece 

"'Freshmen  hazin'f     I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing!"       .       88 
"He  sprang  back,  screening  the  lantern  with  his  coat  "       .     166 

"They  came  speeding  on,  desperately  trying  to  improve 

every  minute  they  had  gained "     .        .        .  .     274 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 


CHAPTER   I 

THE  LATE  ARRIVAL 

GET  into  it,  freshman!  What  are  you  doing 
there?" 
Before  he  realized  that  he  was  the 
"  freshman "  meant,  the  fellow  watching  on  the 
edge  of  the  crowd  found  himself  grabbed  and  sent 
whirling  into  the  thick  of  the  rush.  It  was  a  mis- 
take :  he  was  not  a  freshman  at  all.  But  there  was 
no  time  to  explain  that  it  was  the  sophomore  class 
he  was  planning  to  enter.  He  was  straightway  in 
the  very  heart  of  the  fight,  and  because  he  had  been 
eager  to  take  a  hand  in  it  anyway,  there  he  remained, 
forgetful  of  everything  but  the  excitement  of  battle, 
until  time  was  called  and  he  was  forcibly  made  to 
release  a  wriggly  little  fellow  whom  he  had  managed 
to  get  down  and  sit  upon. 

The  two  of  them  got  to  their  feet  together,  the 
little  fellow  red  and  ruffled,  the  new  sophomore 
grinning  broadly.  He  could  not  help  it,  the  other 
looked  so  like  an  angry  little  fighting  cock. 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"What's  your  name?"  demanded  the  little  fel- 
low. 

"  Bill,"  answered  the  new  sophomore,  still 
grinning. 

"  Your  last  name?  "  The  little  fellow  evidently 
resented  being  sat  upon,  and  he  spoke  sharply. 

11  My  last  name's  Bill." 

The  other  looked  at  him,  scowling,  as  if  he  was 
trying  to  decide  whether  he  were  being  trifled  with 
or  not,  and  then  turned  away.  Several  upperclass- 
men  who  were  standing  about  laughed. 

"  You'll  have  to  get  after  him,  Butt,"  one  of 
them  called  after  him.  "  That's  the  president  of 
the  sophomore  class  you've  been  trying  to  jolly,  Mr. 
Bill,"  he  added,  for  he  also  was  making  the  mistake 
of  taking  the  new  man  for  a  freshman,  and  it  is  the 
privilege  of  juniors  to  correct  freshmen  when  they 
seem  to  need  it. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  said  the  new  sophomore,  and 
he,  too,  walked  away.  He  seemed  to  be  a  very 
fresh  freshman  indeed. 

Their  mistake  was  not  unnatural,  for  it  was 
the  first  time  any  of  them  had  ever  seen  him.  He 
had  arrived  in  town  quite  late  the  evening  before, 
very  weary  and  ready  to  crawl  straight  into  bed, 
and  that  morning  he  had  overslept,  so  that  when  he 
started  for  chapel  he  was  serenely  ignorant  that 
the  chapel  exercises,  though  held  late  that  first  day, 

2 


THE   LATE   ARRIVAL 

were  already  nearly  half  over  and  college  had  begun 
without  him. 

So  instead  of  morning  prayers  he  had  arrived 
upon  a  scene  of  tumult  which  past  experience  im- 
mediately told  him  was  a  rush.  A  coatless  mob  was 
apparently  struggling  for  possession  of  the  front 
steps,  while  another  mob — not  coatless  and  there- 
fore, he  argued,  upperclassmen — stood  about  and 
urged  on  the  conflict.  He  had  been  mingling  with 
the  coated  ones,  wishing  that  he  knew  freshmen 
from  sophomores  so  he  could  get  into  it,  too,  when 
some  junior  unceremoniously  changed  him  from  spec- 
tator to  participant  and  fight  he  must,  anyway,  with 
no  thought  of  which  side  was  which. 

After  his  little  episode  with  "  Butt "  he  walked 
away,  amused  at  the  idea  of  that  little  fellow's  "  get- 
ting after  him."  His  principal  feeling,  however, 
was  that  he  was  really  a  Tresham  man  now,  and 
he  knew  at  least  the  nickname  of  one  of  his  class- 
mates. He  would  get  acquainted  with  more  of  them 
presently,  but  in  the  meantime  there  were  other 
things  to  attend  to. 

He  had  never  been  in  Tresham  before,  but  he 
had  as  accurate  an  idea  of  the  college  grounds  as 
one  can  get  from  the  map  that  then  adorned  the 
front  page  of  the  college  catalogue,  and  he  easily 
found  his  way  to  Langton  Hall,  presented  his  papers 
from  the  mid-western  college  where  he  had  spent 

a 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

the  year  before,  and  was  thereupon  enrolled  a  mem- 
ber of  the  sophomore  class — the  class  of  Noughty- 
Even.  He  also  looked  up  the  courses  he  would 
have  to  take,  but  that  was  merely  to  find  out  what 
was  ahead  of  him.  He  had  no  intention  of  starting 
work  on  lessons  until  he  had  found  a  room  to  live  in. 

He  finally  decided  upon  an  uninteresting  looking 
house  not  far  from  the  campus,  where  an  uninterest- 
ing looking  woman  assured  him  several  times  that 
she  had  no  room  to  rent — she  wouldn't  have  students 
around  the  place  anyway — and  ended  by  giving  him 
a  big  chamber  looking  out  on  the  western  hills,  the 
like  of  which  he  could  not  have  happened  upon  again 
if  he  had  hunted  a  week. 

"  But  you've  got  to  understand  one  thing,  young 
man,"  she  declared.  "  I  don't  like  students — I  never 
did,  and  for  the  life  of  me  I  don't  know  why  I'm 
takin'  you  in  this  way,  and  you  a  perfect  stranger 
and  all  that.  But  the  minute  you  start  any  monkey 
shines,  out  you  go,  bag  and  baggage,  and  that's  flat." 

He  agreed  that  flat  it  was,  and  the  bargain  was 
closed.  By  supper  time  he  had  harassed  an  ex- 
pressman into  bringing  his  trunk  and  boxes, 
wheedled  a  storekeeper  into  delivering  some  new 
furniture  on  the  same  day  it  was  ordered,  and  got 
himself  completely  and  comfortably  settled.  Mrs. 
Sleeper  came  up  when  all  was  done  to  look  at  the 
result. 


THE   LATE   ARRIVAL 

"  It  won't  last,"  she  declared.  "  It  looks  real 
nice,  but  It  won't  last.  I  never  knew  the  man  yet 
't  could  keep  things  looking  decent,  much  less  a 
boy.  You'd  ought  to  shift  that  chair  around  so's't 
the  light'll  fall  over  your  left  shoulder." 

He  obligingly  shifted  the  chair,  then  after  she 
had  gone  decided  he  liked  it  better  the  other  way 
and  shifted  it  back  again.  Then  he  went  up  to  the 
hotel  for  supper. 

Altogether  it  had  been  a  pretty  good  day.  He 
was  housed  quite  .to  his  satisfaction,  and  now  he 
could  look  around  and  begin  to  get  acquainted.  The 
little  taste  of  action  he  had  got  in  the  chapel  rush 
rather  whetted  his  appetite,  and  he  decided  to  look 
up  some  of  his  new  classmates  later  in  the  evening 
and  see  if  there  wasn't  something  going  on.  They 
would  probably  be  visiting  freshmen,  and  that  might 
prove  interesting.  He  wondered  what  sort  of  haz- 
ing they  did  at  Tresham. 

It  was  still  daylight  when  he  left  the  hotel  and 
strolled  across  the  common.  There  were  plenty  of 
fellows  about,  and  he  was  wondering  whether  he 
hadn't  better  introduce  himself  to  some  of  them 
when  he  saw  a  group  of  three  coming  straight  for 
him — the  little  sophomore  he  had  sat  upon  earlier 
in  the  day  between  two  others  who  towered  over 
him  like  giants.  They  stopped  in  front  of  him  and 
the  little  fellow  spoke. 

2  5 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  Where  is  your  room?  "  he  demanded. 

It  was  rather  unceremonious,  but  he  remembered 
that  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  day  he  had  been 
taken  for  a  freshman.  Well,  he  didn't  mind — the 
joke  was  really  on  the  others. 

"  At  Mrs.  Sleeper's,"  he  answered,  just  the  flick- 
er of  a  smile  touching  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"  Be  in  your  room  at  half  past  seven,"  was  the 
curt  command  and  the  three  moved  on. 

The  same  three  presented  themselves  at  Mrs. 
Sleeper's  front  door  at  the  appointed  hour  and  were 
met  there  by  Mrs.  Sleeper  herself.  She  did  not 
know  that  her  visitors  included  not  only  President 
Chanler  of  the  sophomore  class,  but  "  Bull  "  Dur- 
ham and  "  Husky  "  Hawkins,  two  of  the  greatest 
heroes  then  engaged  in  accumulating  glory  for  the 
Tresham  football  team.  It  would  not  have  mat- 
tered, probably,  if  she  had. 

"  If  you  mean  Mr.  Bill,  he's  upstairs,"  she  said 
in  answer  to  their  query  if  there  were  a  freshman 
living  there.  "  And  if  you're  friends  of  his  it's  all 
right.  But  you  aren't  coming  in  unless  he  wants  to 
see  you.  I'm  not  going  to  have  any  of  this  hazing 
business  going  on  in  my  house." 

"  I  think  he'll  come  down  and  see  us — we  have 
an  appointment  with  him.  Would  you  mind  telling 
him  Mr.  Chanler  is  waiting  for  him?  " 

The  new  sophomore  came  down  immediately. 
6 


THE   LATE   ARRIVAL 

"  I'm  sorry  I  can't  invite  you  in,"  he  remarked, 
"  but  Mrs.  Sleeper  doesn't  like  your  looks.  She 
feels  sure  you  want  to  haze  me." 

It  was  quite  dark  now,  but  he  knew  the  three 
exchanged  looks  of  amazement. 

"  We're  going  up  to  the  Dorms,"  said  Chanler 
shortly,  and  started  to  lead  the  way. 

"  Do  you — excuse  me,  but  am  I  invited,  too?" 

"  Invited !  "  exclaimed  Hawkins,  the  biggest  of 
the  trio,  and  his  voice  rolled  out  in  a  huge  growl. 
"  What  do  you  think  this  is — a  tea  party?  We're 
going  to  take  you  up  to  the  Dorms  to  haze  you — 
that's  the  kind  of  a  party  it  is.  Step  along,  now." 

"  Just  a  minute  till  I  get  my  hat — "  and  the 
new  sophomore  was  in  the  house  and  flying  up  the 
stairs  before  they  could  stop  him. 

Durham — the  fat  one — laughed.  "  He's  a  case 
for  you,  Butt,"  he  chuckled.  "  Is  he  just  plain, 
ordinary  fresh,  or  what?" 

The  new  sophomore  was  back,  wearing  a  felt 
hat,  before  Chanler  had  time  to  answer,  and  himself 
started  to  lead  the  way  to  the  campus.  The  others 
fell  in  behind  him,  stricken  silent  by  sheer  surprise. 

"  How  do  you  manage  the  hazing?"  he  inquired 
politely.  "  Do  you  take  them  individually  or  col- 
lectively? " 

'  You'll  see  when  we  get  there."  Chanler  meant 
to  be  impressive,  but  he  succeeded  only  in  being  curt. 

7 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

It  is  hard  to  be  impressive  to  a  fellow  who  has 
had  you  on  the  ground  and  sat  on  you — especially 
when  you  feel  pretty  sure  he  is  chuckling  to  himself 
at  the  memory  of  it.  "  Did  you  know,"  he  went 
on  after  they  had  climbed  the  campus  hill  in  silence 
for  a  moment,  "  that  the  freshmen  all  wear  caps 
here — little  black  caps?  " 

"  No,  do  they?  "  Hawkins  scowled  and  Durham 
grinned  at  the  tone,  just  bordering  on  freshness,  but 
not  near  enough  to  be  unmistakably  intentional.  "  I 
should  think  their  ears  would  be  cold  in  the  winter. 
You  have  pretty  cold  winters  here,  haven't  you?" 

He  received  no  answer.  They  had  reached  the 
first  dormitory  by  this  time,  and  Chanler  led  the 
way  into  a  room  on  the  ground  floor.  A  small  crowd 
of  sophomores  were  sitting  about  in  a  circle  wherein 
stood  two  very  nervous  freshmen. 

"  Here  he  is,"  announced  Chanler,  and  the  new 
sophomore  was  pushed,  none  too  politely,  into  the 
middle  of  the  room.  He  removed  his  hat  and  made 
a  calm  survey  of  the  little  circle.  Hawkins  had  taken 
his  stand  in  front  of  the  fireplace,  leaning  one  el- 
bow on  the  mantel.  He  fixed  his  man  with  a  stern 
gaze. 

"  What's  your  name?  "  he  questioned  gruffly. 

The  new  sophomore  returned  his  look  with  an 
eye  that  twinkled  just  the  tiniest  bit.  "  Bill,"  he 
answered. 

8 


THE   LATE   ARRIVAL 

"Any  relation  to  Buffalo  Bill?"  called  out  a 
voice  from  the  corner. 

"  Not  that  I  ever  heard  of,"  answered  Bill  se- 
renely, his  eyes  still  on  Hawkins. 

"  What's  your  whole  name?  "  Hawkins  went  on, 
scowling. 

"  Ridgeway  Bill,  Jr." 

"  When  did  you  get  into  town?  " 

"  Last  night  on  the  half  past  ten  trolley  from 
Southboro.  I  came  from  Omaha,  Neb.,  where  I  was 
born  eighteen  years  ago  the  twenty-second  day  of 
last  June.  My  father " 

"  You  can  cut  out  the  family  history,"  inter- 
rupted Hawkins.  He  had  an  uneasy  suspicion  that 
under  his  eager  politeness  Bill  was  taking  things  en- 
tirely too  much  as  a  joke.  "  If  you  don't  happen  to 
know  it  you  are  up  here  to  entertain  us.  The  gentle- 
men here  assembled  are  members  of  the  class  of 
Noughty-Even,  and  you  should  look  upon  being 
allowed  to  entertain  them  as  a  privilege  and  an 
honor." 

Bill  inclined  his  head. 

"  I  appreciate  the  privilege — and  the  honor," 
he  said  quietly.  "What  can  I  do  for  you?  I  shall 
be  happy  to  try  anything  you  suggest." 

It  sounded  meek  enough.  Hawkins  stared  at 
him  almost  in  surprise  and  then  turned  to  Chanler. 

"  What'll  he  do,  Butt?"  he  asked. 

9 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

Chanler  had  perched  on  the  edge  of  the  desk, 
where  he  sat  watching  Bill  with  a  suspicious  glint  in 
his  eyes. 

"  Perhaps  he'd  better  suggest  something  him- 
self," he  replied.  "  It  will  be  a  good  test  of  his 
taste — we  hope  he  has  good  taste." 

"  I  could  sing  a  song  for  you."  Bill  spoke  hesi- 
tatingly, with  a  downward  look  that  surely  meant 
modesty. 

"  Go  ahead,  then,"  commanded  Hawkins  shortly. 

"  I  could  do  much  better  if  I  had  some  sort  of 
an  instrument — you  haven't  got  a  piano  or  an  organ 
around,  have  you? — or  a  tambourine " 

"  No,  we  haven't!    Go  on  and  do  your  singing." 

"  It's  a  duet  I'm  going  to  sing,  a  duet  for  so- 
prano and  tenor.  Of  course  I  can't  do  both  parts  at 
once,  both  at  the  same  time,  but,  perhaps — I  am  sure 
you  can  fill  in  the  one  I'm  not  singing  with  your 
imagination.  It  really  is  a  very  lovely  song,  but  I 
wish  I  had  an  instrument.  Are  you  sure  there  isn't 
a  piano  hidden  away  somewhere?"  He  peered 
in  the  direction  of  the  closet  door,  which  stood 
ajar. 

Hawkins's  face  was  very  red  and  he  shot  a 
wrathful  glance  at  Durham,  who  lay  giggling  fool- 
ishly on  the  window  seat. 

"  Cut  that!"  he  growled.  "  If  you're  going  to 
sing,  sing!" 

10 


THE    LATE   ARRIVAL 

Bill  gave  him  a  reproachful  look,  then  drew  him- 
self suddenly  erect,  hands  clasped  tightly  in  front  of 
him,  eyes  raised  to  the  ceiling,  and  began. 

"  Oh,  that  we  two  were  Maying, 

Down  the  stream  of  the  soft  spring  breeze  ! 
Like  children,  with  violets  playing, 
In  the  shade " 

At  the  first  note  everybody  let  out  a  gasp.  It 
Was  horrible — weirder  singing  they  had  never  heard, 
and  the  worst  of  it  was,  the  singer  seemed  to  think 
he  was  making  sounds  of  matchless  beauty.  Then 
Durham  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and  laughed 
till  he  choked,  Chanler  averted  his  head  and  the 
others  tittered.  A  rapt  smile  came  to  Bill's  face, 
and  he  sang  on,  his  eyes  fixed  in  an  ardent  gaze  on 
an  upper  corner  of  the  room.  Hawkins  glared.  For 
the  life  of  him  he  could  not  make  out  whether  Bill 
was  only  acting  like  a  conceited  fool  or  really  was 
one.  The  two  freshmen  had  drawn  back  against 
the  wall,  uncertain  whether  to  laugh  or  be  sorry 
for  their  classmate. 

Then  Bill  shifted  to  the  soprano  part,  his  voice 
rising  in  a  tremulous,  passionate  falsetto.  In  the 
midst  of  it  the  hall  door  opened  and  three  more 
freshmen  were  "  shooed  "  into  the  room  by  a  tall 
and  freckled  sophomore  who  stopped  aghast  at  the 
sight  and  sound  that  greeted  him.  "  That's  McCar- 

ii 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

thy,  the  pitcher,"  whispered  one  of  the  freshmen 
behind  Bill. 

Hawkins  suddenly  made  up  his  mind. 

"  Stop  it !  "  he  yelled  above  the  screeching  of 
Bill's  song.  Bill  stopped,  a  look  of  hurt  surprise 
on  his  face.  McCarthy  stepped  forward  and  looked 
him  over. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  him?  "  he  asked. 

"  Mac!  "  Chanler  touched  the  newcomer  on  the 
arm  and  drew  him  back  to  the  window  seat,  while 
Hawkins  addressed  himself  to  telling  Bill  what  he 
thought  of  fresh  freshmen.  "  That's  Freshman 
Bill,"  Chanler  whispered,  chuckling,  "  and  he  is 
fresh.  But  it  was  too  good  to  stop.  Husky  didn't 
know  whether  he  was  putting  it  on  or  not,  and  it 
was  such  a  circus  watching  him  trying  to  make  out 
whether  he  was  being  kidded.  We'll  have  to  give 
this  Bill  fellow  a  special  session  afterwards." 

"Me  for  him!"  McCarthy  turned  to  resume 
his  inspection  of  Bill,  who  was  looking  serenely  into 
Hawkins's  angry  face.  "  Come  on,  you !"  He  beck- 
oned to  the  three  freshmen  he  had  brought  in  with 
him.  "  Step  forward  and  show  the  gentlemen  what 
you're  good  for.  You  can  fade  away  for  the  pres- 
ent," he  added  to  Bill.  "  Fade  back  into  that  corner 
there." 

Bill  looked  at  him  with  interest  as  he  stepped  into 
the  corner  indicated.  McCarthy  took  hold  of  things 

12 


THE   LATE   ARRIVAL 

with  a  master  hand  and  the  three  freshmen  were 
put  through  a  series  of  stunts  that  kept  the  room  in 
an  uproar.  But  presently  the  interest  in  them  began 
to  wane  and  McCarthy  dismissed  them. 

"  Trot  along  home  to  bed,  now,"  he  commanded. 
They  were  glad  enough  to  obey  and  hurried  out  of 
the  room  in  short  order.  "  Now  let's  have  a  look 
at  Freshman  Bill." 

But  "  Freshman  "  Bill  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
While  everybody's  interest  was  centered  in  McCar- 
thy and  his  doings,  he  had  quietly  walked  out  of  the 
room,  as  one  of  the  freshmen  stationed  against  the 
wall  testified. 

The  outraged  sophomores  stared  at  one  another. 
Such  arrogance  was  inconceivable — insufferable.  The 
way  he  had  borne  himself  toward  Hawkins  was  bad 
enough — they  realized  now  they  had  made  a  mis- 
take in  treating  it  lightly  at  the  time,  though  they 
had  meant  to  punish  him  for  it  later.  But  now — 
The  two  freshmen  who  were  still  in  the  room  were 
heartily  thankful  not  to  be  in  Bill's  shoes. 

"  If  he's  in  his  room  I'll  get  him,"  said  Hawkins 
grimly  and  slammed  out  into  the  hall. 

He  wasn't  in  his  room. 

"  I  don't  believe  it's  any  of  your  business  where 
he  is,  but  he  isn't  here,"  Mrs.  Sleeper  declared,  eye- 
ing Hawkins  suspiciously.  "  I  should  think  you'd 
know — he  went  out  with  you." 

13 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

Hawkins  had  to  take  her  word  for  it  and  go 
back  empty-handed,  hoping  they  had  found  him 
hiding  in  some  other  freshman's  room.  But  the 
hope  was  vain.  No  one  had  seen  "  Freshman  "  Bill. 

"  That  landlady  of  his  has  got  him  hidden  some- 
where," Hawkins  grumbled.  "  I  know  it  from 
the  way  she  looked  at  me.  But  wait  till  to-mor- 
row! " 

In  the  meantime  others  had  to  bear  the  brunt 
of  his  wrath.  In  his  ordinary  frame  of  mind  Haw- 
kins would  have  hung  around  looking  on  at  the 
hazing  for  a  little  while  and  then  gone  home  to  bed, 
finding  the  whole  thing  too  much  trouble  for  the 
little  fun  there  was  in  it.  But  with  the  thought  of 
Bill  to  goad  him  on,  he  won  that  night  the  reputation 
of  being  a  terror  and  a  scourge.  Freshmen  quailed 
before  him,  and  even  the  sophomores  who  were  fol- 
lowing in  his  wake  saw  things  that  made  them  open 
their  eyes. 

Chanler,  as  sophomore  president,  felt  officially 
responsible  for  seeing  that  all  freshmen  were  prop- 
erly visited,  and  his  frequent  tours  of  inspection  gave 
him  other  things  to  think  of  than  Ridgeway  Bill,  Jr. 
Bill  would  get  what  was  coming  to  him  in  good 
time,  he  felt,  and  there  was  no  use  in  getting  excited 
over  his  disappearance  now.  He  couldn't  stay  in 
hiding  forever.  Besides,  Chanler  had  taken  rather 
a  fancy  to  the  supposed  freshman.  The  way  he  had 


THE   LATE   ARRIVAL 

played  with  Hawkins  had  made  fun  enough  to  coun- 
teract its  freshness. 

It  was  close  upon  ten  o'clock,  and  Chanler  had 
about  decided  that  it  was  time  to  pass  along  the  "  Cut 
it  out  for  to-night "  signal  when  he  bethought  him 
of  a  certain  freshman  named  Burnet  whom  he  had 
not  seen  that  evening.  Burnet  had  come  from  Chan- 
ler's  home  town  and  was  pledged  to  Chanler's  fra- 
ternity. He  roomed  on  the  top  floor  of  South 
College  and  thither  Chanler  repaired — to  make  sure 
Burnet  had  got  his,  he  told  himself.  He  found 
Burnet's  door  locked  and  strange  noises  issuing  from 
within. 

"  Open  up,  Freshman!  "  he  called,  rattling  the 
door  knob. 

"  Who  is  it?  "  a  voice  answered,  a  voice  he  did 
not  recognize. 

"  No  matter  who  it  is.    Open  up  I" 

The  door  was  not  opened  and  the  strange  noises 
continued.  Chanler  rapped  sharply. 

"  Open  up !  "  he  repeated.    "  This  is  Chanler !  " 

The  key  turned  in  the  lock  and  Burnet  himself 
opened  the  door.  Chanler  entered  and  stopped  with 
a  gasp.  Five  freshmen  were  sprawled  on  the  floor 
in  various  queer  attitudes,  emitting  the  strange  noises 
he  had  heard  and  which  they  did  not  interrupt  on 
his  entrance.  Seated  on  a  table  between  the  two 
windows,  his  coat  off,  his  felt  hat  pushed  far  back 

15 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

on  his  forehead,  was  Ridgeway  Bill,  Jr.,  of  Omaha, 
Neb.,  apparently  engaged  in  hazing  some  of  his  own 
classmates. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said,  smiling  genially.  "  This — 
this  thing  we  have  before  us  is  a  freshman  automo- 
bile. Freshman  A,  there — it's  a  lot  easier  to  call 
them  by  letters — is  the  headlight,  Freshman  B  is  the 
steering  wheel,  Freshman  C  is  the  crank " 

"  If  you  haven't  the  biggest  nerve !  "  Chanler 
had  recovered  his  voice  and  he  stepped  forward  with 
wrath  in  his  eye.  "  What  do  you " 

"  Freshman  D  is  the  tonneau,"  went  on  Bill  with 
increasing  enthusiasm,  "  and  Freshman  E — ,  our 
host,"  indicating  Burnet,  who  was  running  wildly 
and  aimlessly  about  the  room,  "  is  the  smell.  Don't 
you  think  it's  a  rather  good  idea?" 

"  I  think "  Chanler  stopped  to  find  adequate 

words.  A  freshman  hazing  his  own  classmates  was 
not  a  thing  to  be  dealt  with  lightly. 

"  Shut  the  thing  off,"  Bill  directed  quietly.  The 
various  noises  ceased.  "  All  but  the  smell,"  he 
added.  "  Freshman  E,  you'll  have  to  smell  a  little 
while  longer,  till  you  vanish  into  thin  air.  You 
might  begin  vanishing  right  away,  however,  and 
hurry  it  up." 

Burnet  gradually  ceased  his  wild  maneuvers  and 
at  length  disappeared  into  the  closet.  "  That  is 
Freshman  E's  own  idea  of  what  a  smell  acts  like," 

16 


THE    LATE   ARRIVAL 

Bill  went  on.  "  I  don't  know  whether  it's  a  good 
one  or  not.  I  never  saw  a  smell  before,  but  prob- 
ably  " 

"Well!"  It  was  the  only  exclamation  that 
Chanler  could  think  of,  but  it  served  to  stem  Bill's 
serene  flow  of  words. 

"Well?"  Bill  echoed  inquiringly,  getting  down 
from  the  table. 

Chanler  faced  him,  flushed  with  indignation. 

"  I  don't  know  what  kind  of  an  idea  you  have 
about  college,  or  the  way  freshmen  are  expected  to 

act.  But  whatever  it  is "  He  stopped  abruptly, 

staring. 

"Well?  "Bill  repeated. 

Chanler  continued  to  stare  and  stepped  nearer, 
unconsciously  pointing  to  a  pin  fastened  to  Bill's 
shirt. 

"  Isn't — isn't  that  a  Kappa  Chi  pin?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Are  you — but  aren't  you  a  freshman?  Are 
you  a  Kappa  Chi?  " 

"  Yes— Beta,  Noughty-Even." 

Chanler  was  too  astonished  to  speak.  Slowly  he 
put  out  his  hand,  Bill  met  it  with  the  Kappa  Chi 
grip,  and  a  broad  grin  spread  over  both  their  faces. 

"  Then  you're  going  to  be  in  my  class!  "  Chan- 
ler exclaimed. 

"  Sure !     You  all  took  me  for  a  freshman  and 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

I  thought  I'd  let  you  think  so  for  a  while — it  wasn't 
bad  fun " 

The  stamping  of  feet  in  the  hallway,  pausing 
just  outside  the  door,  interrupted  him.  The  door 
opened  and  a  band  of  sophomores  entered,  led  by 
McCarthy  and  Hawkins,  still  on  the  warpath.  Dur- 
ham followed  immediately  behind.  They  stood  still 
in  amazement  at  the  sight  of  Bill  and  Chanler,  still 
with  hands  clasped. 

"  Here's  your  man,  Husky,"  said  Chanler,  turn- 
ing to  them  with  a  beaming  smile.  "  We  made  a 
mistake.  He's  in  our  class — a  new  man.  Come 
here — I  want  to  introduce  you.  Brother  Bill — 
Brother  Hawkins." 

Hawkins's  grim  face  slowly  softened  and  broke 
into  a  grin. 

"By  Golly!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  seized  Bill's 
hand  in  a  grip  that  threatened  to  crush  it.  "  I  was 
going  to  haze  the  life  out  of  you!  Do  you  know 
you're  about  the  freshest  sophomore  that  ever  struck 
this  place?  " 


CHAPTER  II 

SIZING  UP 

THEY  straightway  took  their  new  classmate 
down  to  the  house — to  Chanler,  Durham, 
and  Hawkins  there  was  only  one  "  the  " 
house — and  the  brethren  of  Kappa  Chi  gave  him  a 
reception  that  was  all  the  heartier  for  coming  a  day 
late. 

"  You  ought  to  have  come  right  down  here  last 
night,"  Chanler  protested.  "  Nobody  ever  goes  to 
the  hotel  if  there's  anywhere  else  to  go,  and  you 
know  this  house  is  your  home." 

"  I  know — but  I  was  dead  to  the  world  when 
I  got  in,  and  the  only  thing  I  could  think  of  was 
bed.  Besides,  I'd  have  missed  being  hazed,  if  I 
had,  and  it  isn't  everybody  that  can  have  that  two 
years  running." 

They  made  a  long  evening  of  it,  sitting  about  a 
huge  fire  and  talking  until  the  chapel  clock  was  strik- 
ing well  into  the  small  hours.  When  Bill  finally 
got  up  and  insisted  upon  going  to  his  own  room  he 
knew  that  he  liked  Tresham  and  liked  it  well.  The 

19 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

welcome  he  had  been  given  warmed  him  to  the 
heart,  and  the  sophomores  especially  had  received 
him  into  their  little  group  in  a  thorough-going 
fashion  that  made  him  feel  at  home  already. 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Sleeper  had  to  submit 
to  a  small-sized  reception  in  his  room  which  de- 
scended upon  her  like  an  invasion  while  she  was 
sweeping  and  putting  things  to  rights.  They  came 
trooping  up  the  stairs  without  stopping  to  ring  the 
front  door  bell — Chanler,  Hawkins,  Durham,  and 
another  Kappa  Chi  sophomore  named  Gray — and 
with  a  cheery  "  Good-morning  "  calmly  took  posses- 
sion of  the  room.  Bill  was  not  yet  back  from  chapel 
and  Mrs.  Sleeper  eyed  the  invaders  with  suspicion. 

"  Bill  will  be  right  down,"  Chanler  announced, 
"  and  he  told  us  to  come  right  up." 

Mrs.  Sleeper  made  no  reply,  but  gathered  up 
her  dust-pan  and  broom  and  departed,  leaving  the 
visitors  to  look  about  them.  It  was  an  ordinary 
enough  room,  without  very  much  to  distinguish  its 
owner  from  any  one  of  a  hundred  other  Tresham 
sophomores.  A  mandolin  on  the  couch  may  or  may 
not  have  meant  that  he  was  musical — remembering 
the  way  he  had  slaughtered  "  Oh,  that  we  two  were 
Maying !  "  the  night  before  they  were  inclined  to  be 
skeptical — and  the  large  number  of  books  seemed 
to  indicate  that  he  was  fond  of  reading.  On  the 
mantel  were  two  or  three  athletic  trophies — a  silver 

20 


SIZING   UP 

cup,  won,  according  to  its  inscription,  in  a  diving 
contest,  and  a  couple  of  others  that  were  prizes  in 
some  track  meet.  A  tennis  racket  and  a  bag  of 
golf  sticks  stood  in  a  corner. 

'  Will  you  look  at  this !"  exclaimed  Gray,  who 
was  inspecting  the  bookcase.  "  Brother  Billiam  must 
be  a  regular  specialist  in  detective  stories.  Look  at 
what  he's  got  lined  up  here — a  whole  shelf  full  of 
them — everything  from  Nick  Carter  and  Old  Sleuth 
to  Sherlock  Holmes." 

"  It  isn't  a  bad  collection,  is  it?  "  They  looked 
up  and  discovered  Bill  grinning  in  the  doorway.  "  I 
hope  you  don't  think  they're  just  trash — of  course 
some  of  them  are,  but  just  because  they're  detective 
stories  I  mean.  I've  got  a  whole  stack  of  paper- 
covered  ones  at  home  that  I  couldn't  bring  along, 
but  there's  the  cream  of  'em  right  there.  I  picked 
up  a  new  one  the  other  day  that's  pretty  good.  Ever 
read  this?  "  He  went  to  the  shelf  and  took  out  a 
red-covered  volume.  "  It's  by  a  new  man,  but  he's 
got  a  fellow  here  that  I'd  put  up  against  Sherlock 
Holmes  any  day,"  he  began  enthusiastically,  and 
then  stopped,  laughing.  "  I've  been  nutty  over  these 
things  ever  since  I  was  a  kid,"  he  explained,  "  and 
I  don't  suppose  I'll  ever  think  there's  anything 
quite  so  fine  as  being  a  detective.  Anyway,  I'm 
like  that  old  fellow  in  Davis's  '  In  the  Fog ' — you 
get  me  listening  to  something  where  there's  a 
3  21 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

mystery  to  be  cleared  up  and  you  can  keep  me  up 
all  night." 

"  I  was  reading  one  coming  up  on  the  train  the 
other  day  that  wasn't  bad,"  remarked  Hawkins  with 
the  ponderous  air  of  one  delivering  a  weighty  judg- 
ment. "  Something  about  an  American  who  was  a 
Japanese  spy." 

"  Oh,  I  know  the  one  you  mean — where  the 
Russian  countess,  or  whatever  she  was,  turns  out  to 
be  the  fellow's  mother?  I  read  that.  Say,  do 
you  honestly  think  that  was  any  good?  Why,  I 
knew  how  it  was  coming  out  almost  from  the  be- 
ginning  " 

"Go  on — you  didn't!"  Hawkins  was  helpless 
as  an  infant  in  the  face  of  anything  approaching  a 
mystery,  and  his  tone  was  utterly  incredulous. 

"  Sure.  The  whole  thing  was  plain  as  day  after 
the  third  chapter.  Of  course  there  was  a  lot  of 
stuff  thrown  in  to  fill  up,  but  the  thing  came  out 
just  as  I  thought  it  would." 

"£an  you  really  work  out  things  like  that?" 
asked  Chanler,  who  had  taken  up  the  red-covered 
book  and  was  skimming  through  the  first  chapter. 

"  Not  anything  very  elaborate,  but  I  like  to  try 
it.  Old  Dupin,  you  know,  in  those  stories  of  Poe's, 
was  about  as  keen  as  any  of  'em,  and  I'm  all  the 
time  trying  to  observe  things  and  build  up  theories 
about  them  the  way  he  did." 

22 


SIZING   UP 

"Can  you  detect  anything  about  me?"  Dur- 
ham had  stretched  himself  out  on  the  couch  and  he 
put  the  question  with  the  smile  that  was  continually 
hovering  over  his  broad  face. 

Bill  looked  at  him  a  moment. 

"  I  should  say  you  barely  made  chapel  this  morn- 
ing," he  said. 

"You  saw  him  come  in!"  broke  in  Hawkins. 
"  Besides,  that's  a  safe  bet  any  morning  if  you  know 
Bull — he's  always  trailing  in  just  after  the  last 
gun's  fired." 

"  Shut  up,  Husky!  let  him  build  up  his  theory!  " 

*  I  should  say  further  that  you  did  not  have 
time  to  eat  all  your  breakfast — also  that  you  have 
not  finished  unpacking  your  things  yet,  and  that 
you  have  started  the  year  with  some  good  reso- 
lutions." 

Durham  looked  around  at  the  others  with  a 
perplexed  grin. 

"  Do  any  of  you  see  crazy  things  like  that  stick- 
ing out  on  me  anywhere?  "  he  asked. 

"  But  aren't  they  so?  "  Bill  persisted. 

"  Why,  yes — some  of  them — but  how  did  you 
know?" 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  interrupted  Gray,  "  let's  see 
if  he  can  do  the  trick  twice  before  he  tells  how  he 
does  it.  Just  cast  your  eagle  eye  on  me  and  see 
what  it  sees." 

23 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

Bill  looked  Gray  over  with  a  quick,  half  humor- 
ous glance. 

"  There's  isn't  so  much — at  least,  not  the  same 
kind  of  things.  I  guess  you  had  to  hurry  some  this 
morning,  too.  I  should  say  you  are  generally  pretty 
regular  in  your  habits — rather  particular,  in  fact." 

"  Right,  Sherlock !  He's  a  regular  old  woman," 
laughed  Chanler.  "  You  seem  to  be  pretty  keen  on 
telling  what  time  people  got  up — how  about  me?  " 

"  Can't  tell.  There  isn't  anything  about  you 
to  tell  by." 

"  But  how  did  you  know  those  other  things — 
the  things  about  me?  "  asked  Durham.  "  Of  course 
there's  some  way  that's  perfectly  silly,  it's  so  sim- 
ple— the  fellow  that  the  story-book  detective  explains 
things  to  always  seems  like  a  blooming  idiot;  but 
I  give  it  up — what's  the  answer?  " 

Bill  laughed.  "  It  was  mostly  guesswork,  with 
what  I  already  knew  about  you  to  help  me  out  and 
two  or  three  little  somethings  to  start  with.  Did  I 
really  hit  on  anything?  " 

"  You  hit  on  everything,  except  that  about  good 
resolutions.  I  don't  know  just  what  you  meant  by 
that." 

"  Well,  there's  mud  on  your  shoes " 

"Oh,  Lord!  and  I've  wiped  'em  all  over  your 
couch !  " 

"  It  won't  hurt  anything — I  thought  you  prob- 

24 


SIZING   UP 

ably  got  it  there  by  going  through  some  wet  grass 
before  crossing  the  road — it  isn't  muddy  to-day. 
From  that  I  inferred  that  you  probably  didn't  have 
much  time  to  get  to  chapel  in,  so  you  took  a  short 
cut.  You  were  running,  because  your  shoes  sank 
into  the  dirt  deeper  than  they  would  if  you'd  just 
been  walking,  and  as  your  shoes  were  wet,  the  dirt 
stuck.  If  you'd  had  plenty  of  time  you'd  have  stayed 
on  the  sidewalk,  where  there's  no  wet  grass  and 
no  dirt  to  speak  of." 

"  That's  just  imagination,"  grunted  Hawkins. 

"  That's  all  detective  theories  ever  are — imagi- 
nation and  logic  and  plenty  of  common  sense." 

"  But  how  about  the  rest  of  it — the  breakfast 
and  the  unpacking?"  Durham  questioned. 

"  You've  got  an  orange  or  a  good-sized  apple 
in  your  coat  pocket  that  I  suppose  you  didn't  have 
time  to  eat  at  the  table.  You  are  wearing  a  jersey 
that's  a  lot  too  small  for  you  and  probably  belongs 
to  some  one  else,  which  I  don't  imagine  you'd  be 
doing  if  you'd  unpacked  your  own,  because  it  looks 
like  a  pretty  tight  fit.  And  the  good  resolution  part 
was  just  a  guess,  to  impress  you  with.  I  thought 
probably  you'd  resolved  not  to  begin  cutting  chapel 
so  early  in  the  year,  or  you'd  have  stayed  and  eaten 
your  whole  breakfast  in  comfort  instead  of  racing 
off  'cross  lots  to  make  it  in  time." 

"Good!  I  did  have  some  such  idea  as  that." 
25 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

Durham  lay  back  and  chuckled.  "  Only  I've  made 
that  same  old  resolution  so  often  that  I  don't  even  re- 
member when  I  do  it  now.  But  how  about  Gray — 
he  hasn't  any  mud  on  his  shoes." 

"  No,  but  he  cut  himself  shaving  this  morning, 
so  I  thought  he  might  have  been  in  a  hurry." 

"  That  was  Butt's  old  razor — it's  as  dull  as  a 
hoe." 

"  Use  somebody  else's  then,"  replied  Butt  se- 
renely. "  That's  one  thing  you're  not  fussy  about, 
anyway.  How  did  you  hit  on  the  fussy  habits,  Bill?  " 

"  Well,  if  he  weren't  rather  fussy,  he'd  have 
waited  till  later  when  he  had  more  time — it's  a  fussy 
man  that'll  shave  himself  just  to  go  to  chapel,  you 
know." 

'  Well,  I  still  think  it's  nothing  but  imagination," 
persisted  Hawkins.  "  Those  signs  you  went  by 
might  as  well  have  meant  something  else  as  the 
things  they  did." 

"  Don't  mind  him,  Bill,"  Chanler  remarked. 
"  Husky  tries  to  act  like  a  chronic  knocker,  but  he 
isn't  really.  There's  a  Christian  motive  behind  it 
all — he  does  it  for  the  good  of  our  souls,  and  if  he 
seems  to  be  hitting  at  you  it  only  means  that  he's 
taking  a  kindly  interest  in  your  welfare." 

"  That'll  be  about  all  from  you,  little  one,"  and 
Hawkins  proceeded  to  squelch  his  small  classmate  by 
burying  him  among  the  cushions  on  the  couch.  "  We 

26 


SIZING   UP 

really  came  down  here  on  business  this  morning," 
he  went  on  when  the  tussle  had  subsided.  "  Why 
don't  you  come  down  to  the  house  to  live,  Bill  ?  We 
can  make  room  for  you,  if  you  don't  mind  going  in 
with  Tommy  Gray  and  me." 

"  Sure !  It's  all  nonsense,  your  cooping  yourself 
up  all  alone  'way  over  here,"  said  Durham,  sitting 
up  and  speaking  very  earnestly. 

"  We'd  like  to  have  you  down  at  the  house 
a  lot,"  added  Gray. 

Bill  looked  at  them  in  silence  a  moment — a 
half  smile  on  his  lips.  It  was  good  to  be  taken  this 
way  by  these  fellows. 

"  It's  mighty  kind  of  you "  he  began. 

"  Shucks!    We  want  you,"  broke  in  Hawkins. 

"  That's  how  you're  kind,  and  it  means  a  lot  to 
me.  But  I  can't  do  it.  I  made  up  my  mind  when 
I  came  here  I'd  live  by  myself  this  year,  and 
I  think  I'd  better  stick  to  it.  I've  got  to,  in 
fact." 

"Why?" 

"  Well,  I  put  in  a  pretty  shiftless  year  last  year. 
I  did  about  everything  I  could  do  except  work,  and 
the  result  was  I  just  squeezed  through  by  the  skin 
of  my  teeth.  The  old  man  was  pretty  sore  about 
it  and  wouldn't  let  me  go  back  where  the  old  crowd 
was.  He  wasn't  going  to  let  me  go  back  to  college 
at  all,  but  I  finally  got  him  to  let  me  try  it  here  for 

27 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

a  year.     Now  it's  up  to  me  to  make  good.     If  I 
don't  it's  hard  work  in  an  office  for  little  William." 

"Now  look  here,  Bill!"  Chanler  extricated 
himself  from  the  heap  of  pillows  and  got  to  his  feet, 
assuming  what  Durham  called  his  "  presidential  at- 
titude," as  he  always  did  when  he  had  an  argument 
to  drive  home.  "  We  manage  to  have  about  as 
good  a  time  as  any  fellows  in  college,  but  you  mustn't 
get  the  idea  we're  a  gang  of  loafers.  Gray  there  is 
a  regular  shark — he's  got  his  Phi  Beta  Kappa  key 
cinched  already — and  there  isn't  one  of  us  that  has 
a  condition.  Bull  and  Husky  couldn't  have  last  year 
and  play  football,  and  I  couldn't  without  being  a 
bad  example,  and  the  habit  stuck.  We  don't  kill  our- 
selves, but  we  manage  not  to  get  behind,  and  we  pull 
pretty  respectable  marks.  We  worked  out  a  system 
last  year  for  mutual  benefit  and  protection,  and  Bull 
can  tell  you  what  happened  when  he  got  on  the 
ragged  edge  in  Math." 

"  It  was  something  awful !  "  supplemented  Dur- 
ham. "  I  never  put  in  such  a  time  in  my  life.  They 
just  hounded  me  till  there  wasn't  any  more  danger 
of  my  flunking.  I  tell  you,  no  one  can  travel  with 
Butt  and  Husky  and  not  keep  up  in  his  work." 

"  I  wasn't  afraid  you  fellows  would  lead  me 
astray — please  don't  think  that,"  Bill  protested.  "  It 
may  turn  out  that  I'll  need  some  loving  hand  to  guide 
me  and  keep  me  in  shape,  but  I  want  to  give  myself 

28 


SIZING   UP 

a  chance  at  it  alone  first.  If  I  haven't  it  in  me  to 
stick  to  a  thing  and  see  it  through  by  myself  I 
want  to  find  it  out." 

Chanler  made  no  further  plea.  He  was  not  bad 
at  reading  people,  and  he  saw  not  only  that  Bill's 
mind  was  made  up,  but  that  being  made  up  it  was 
not  likely  to  change.  Hawkins,  however,  still  con- 
tinued the  assault. 

"  I  think  you're  making  a  mountain  out  of  some- 
thing that  isn't  even  a  respectable  sized  molehill," 
he  pursued  stubbornly.  "  You  can  study  at  the 
house  if  you  want  to,  and  you'll  be  with  the  fel- 
lows there.  You're  a  new  man  here,  and  I  should 
think  that  would  be  something:  it  would  make 
it  lots  quicker  and  easier  for  you  to  get  ac- 
quainted." 

"  Please,  I  know  every  single  thing  I'm  missing 
by  staying  here,  but  I've  got  to  stay.  For  another 
thing,  I  had  the  hardest  job  I  ever  tackled  getting 
Mrs.  Sleeper  to  give  me  a  room,  and  I  can't  go  back 
on  her  now.  Besides,  I  rather  want  to  prove  to 
her  that  college  students  are  really  human  beings: 
she  thinks  they're  some  sort  of  a  dangerous  wild 
animal." 

"  It  isn't  such  a  terribly  serious  matter  after  all," 
remarked  Gray.  "  It's  only  a  few  minutes'  walk 
down  to  the  house  anyway,  and  we'll  see  a  lot  of 
one  another." 

29 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 
"  Right  you  are,  Tommy " 


"  Mr.  Bill!  "  Mrs.  Sleeper's  voice  came  up  to 
them  in  a  shrill  call  from  below.  Another  visitor 
proved  to  be  the  cause  of  it — McCarthy,  the  sopho- 
more who  had  been  about  to  take  Bill  in  hand  the 
night  before  when  it  was  discovered  that  he  had 
disappeared.  He  came  bounding  up  the  stairs  and 
into  the  room,  with  his  lean,  freckled  face  twisted 
into  as  merry  a  grin  as  ever  sat  upon  a  homely 
countenance. 

"  I've  been  hunting  all  over  thunder  for  Butt 
Chanler,"  he  announced,  "  and  somebody  said  he 
left  chapel  with  you.  Anything  private  going  on?  " 

"  Not  a  bit.  Come  on  in  and  sit  down — unless 
you  want  to  see  Chanler  alone,"  was  Bill's  greeting. 

"  Bill's  been  having  a  little  reception,  and  in- 
cidentally telling  us  things  about  ourselves.  What 
do  you  see  about  Mac,  Bill?  Anything  you  aren't 
ashamed  to  tell?  "  asked  Durham  with  a  laugh. 

"What's  the  game?"  asked  McCarthy,  empty- 
ing some  tobacco  into  a  cigarette  paper.  "  Fortune- 
telling?  Nothing  doing  with  me.  I  haven't  got  one. 
My  face  is  my  fortune,  and  you  see  what  that's  good 
for." 

"  Oh,  he  doesn't  do  that  sort  of  thing.  He 
gives  you  a  careless  glance  and  then  tells  you  what 
time  you  got  up  and  whether  you  had  to  hurry  to 
get  to  chapel  and  a  few  little  things  like  that." 

30 


SIZING   UP 

> 

McCarthy's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  lighted  his 
cigarette. 

"  Go  as  far  as  you  like.  Do  you  think  you  can 
tell  from  just  a  careless  glance  what  time  I  got  to 
chapel?" 

"  You  didn't  get  to  chapel  this  morning,"  an- 
swered Bill  quietly. 

"  What  ?  " 

"Did  you?" 

"No.    But " 

"  Didn't  I  <-ell  you  he  could  tell  you  things?  " 
asked  Durham  triumphantly.  "  Go  on,  Bill,  you're 
doing  fine." 

Bill  looked  at  McCarthy  questioningly. 

"  Sure — go  as  far  as  you  like,"  McCarthy  re- 
peated, and  the  twinkle  crept  back  into  his  eyes. 
"  What  time  did  I  get  up?  " 

"  You  didn't  go  to  bed,"  said  Bill  slowly.  "  You 
only  took  a  nap  with  your  clothes  on,  and  when  you 
woke  up  you  rushed  right  out  to  find  Chanler.  You 
were  out  pretty  late,  and  you  had  a  pretty  rough 
night  of  it.  It  was  wet  as  well  as  rough,  and  you 
did  a  good  deal  of  beating  around  through  woods 
and  fields." 

McCarthy's  jaw  dropped,  and  the  others  stared 
at  Bill  as  if  he  had  been  seized  with  a  fit  of 
lunacy. 

"Well!"  ejaculated  Hawkins.     "That's  going 


some !     How  did  you  hit  on  that  particular  kind  of 
a  pipe  dream?  " 

"Isn't  it  true?  "asked  Bill. 

McCarthy  nodded  his  head  in  bewilderment. 
'  Yes,  but — you  didn't  dope  that  all  out  yourself, 
did  you?" 

The  others  turned  their  stares  from  Bill  to  Mc- 
Carthy. 

"  Oh,  Bill's  a  regular  Sherlock  Holmes,"  said 
Chanler  at  length.  "  He  doped  it  out  himself  all 
right,  unless  it's  a  put-up  job  between  you." 

"  It  isn't,"  protested  McCarthy.  "  But  it  beats 
me.  Who  told  you?  " 

"  Nobody." 

"  How  did  you  know  it,  then?  "  asked  Chanler. 

"  Well,  he  practically  said  himself  that  he  wasn't 
at  chapel — he  wanted  to  see  you,  and  he'd  have  seen 
you  if  he'd  been  there.  Then  his  clothes  look — er — 
sort  of  slept  in,  and  there's  a  feather  sticking  on  the 
back  of  his  coat.  Didn't  you  go  to  sleep  on  some 
pillows  with  your  coat  on?"  he  asked,  turning  to 
McCarthy. 

"  Yes — on  the  couch.     I  didn't  go  to  bed." 

"  Well,  you'd  have  got  undressed  and  gone  to 
bed  if  it  hadn't  been  pretty  well  along  toward  morn- 
ing, and  you  were  anxious  not  to  oversleep.  Your 
shoes  and  clothes  have  had  mud  on  them,  and  one 
of  your  legs  has  been  in  water  up  to  the  knee. 

32 


SIZING   UP 

There's  a  piece  of  a  burr  sticking  to  the  right  leg  of 
your  trousers  and  another  one  higher  up,  and  there's  a 
twig  caught  in  the  side  of  your  coat.  You  evidently 
didn't  stop  to  brush  up  before  you  started  out  this 
morning — so  you  must  have  been  in  a  hurry." 

McCarthy  was  examining  his  clothes  with  rather 
a  shamefaced  expression. 

"  I  do  look  pretty  seedy.  Got  a  brush  broom 
around  anywhere  ?  Say,  I'll  take  off  my  hat  to  you, 
Bill,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  vigorously  attacked  his 
coat  with  the  clothes  brush.  "  If  you  can  tell  me 
what  I  was  doing  out  last  night,  you're  the  only  and 
original  Hawkshaw,  King  of  Detectives." 

Bill  puckered  up  his  forehead  and  then  smiled. 

"  It  must  have  been  something  to  do  with  the 
class  because  you  wanted  to  see  Chanler.  I  guess 
you  must  have  been  doing  some  hazing — that  was 
the  only  class  business  going  on  last  night," 

McCarthy  threw  the  brush  into  a  corner. 

"  He's  hit  it,"  he  said,  turning  to  Butt. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  tried  some  hazing  on  my  own  account  after 
you  fellows  had  gone,  and  I  came  pretty  near  making 
a  mess  out  of  it.  I  didn't  get  in  till  almost  five 
o'clock  this  morning." 

"What!" 

"  You  oughtn't  to  have  done  that,  Mac,"  said 
Butt.  "  We  agreed  to  cut  it  out  at  ten  o'clock." 

33 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  I  know  that — but  you  listen  a  minute." 

"  But  you  might  get  into  all  sorts  of  trouble," 
protested  Butt.  He  was  evidently  getting  more  and 
more  disturbed  the  more  he  thought  about  it.  "  Five 
o'clock  in  the  morning!  Why  it's  criminal  to  keep 
a  freshman  out  all  night  like  that!  If  the  faculty 
get  hold  of  it  they'll  make  a  terrible  fuss  about  it, 
and  nobody'Il  blame  them." 

"Won't  you  wait  and  hear  about  it?"  cried 
McCarthy  impatiently.  "  I've  thought  of  all  that, 
but  I  don't  care  if  they  do  find  it  out.  I'd  do  the 
same  thing  over  again — and  I'm  not  through  with 
it  yet." 

"  Now,  Mac,  you're  going  to  be  reasonable !  " 
said  Butt.  "  You're  not  going  to  do  anything  fool- 
ish. I  should  think  you'd  done  enough  of  that 
already." 

"  Let  him  tell  his  story,"  interrupted  Hawkins. 

But  McCarthy  was  ruffled  and  needed  some 
smoothing  down  before  he  was  willing  to  go  on  with 
his  tale. 

"  You'd  have  done  something  yourself,"  he  said 
finally.  "  After  you  fellows  had  left  the  Dorms,  I 
thought  I'd  go  home  myself  and  go  to  bed.  I  wasn't 
looking  for  trouble — if  anyone  ever  tells  you  that 
hazing  isn't  hard  work,  you  can  tell  him  he's  a  liar. 
He  doesn't  know  what  he's  talking  about.  I'd  had 
enough  of  it  at  ten  o'clock." 

34 


SIZING   UP 

"  Why  didn't  you  go  home  then  ?  " 

"  I  tell  you  I  was  going  to.  But  I  wanted  a 
match,  and  I  stopped  to  get  one  from  one  of  the 
freshmen.  I  was  just  going  to  open  the  door  of  his 
room  when  I  heard  a  great  racket  inside,  and  of 
course  I  stopped  to  listen.  They  were  laughing  a 
lot  as  if  something  pretty  funny  was  going  on.  It 
didn't  take  long  to  find  out  what  it  was.  Some  fresh- 
man was  telling  them  how  he'd  dodged  the  sopho- 
mores, and  how  many  times  they'd  come  pretty  near 
catching  him,  and  how  clever  he  was,  and  kept  fool- 
ing them,  and  stayed  hiding  till  they'd  all  gone." 

"  That's  rot,"  interrupted  Chanler.  "  We  didn't 
know  about  any  freshman  hiding  at  all — except  Bill." 

"  Of  course  it  was — nobody  had  hunted  for  him 
at  all;  they  didn't  know  there  was  any  such  person. 
But  he  was  hiding  all  right,  or  some  of  us  would 
have  come  across  him.  But  anyway  he  made  a  great 
yarn  about  it,  and  he  was  a  great  hero — those  fresh- 
men thought  it  was  the  best  joke  they'd  ever  heard. 
As  soon  as  I  saw  what  was  going  on  I  walked  in  on 
'em.  They  shut  up  like  clams,  and  that  freshman 
just  sat  there  and  looked  foolish." 

"Who  was  he?" 

"  Nichols,  or  Nicholson,  or  something  like  that 
— nobody  I'd  ever  heard  of  before.  He  couldn't 
have  been  here  during  rushing  or  I'd  have  seen  him. 
He  had  *  quitter '  written  all  over  him— eyes  that 

35 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

sort  of  shifted  and  never  looked  square  at  you.  I 
sized  him  up  right  away,  and  asked  him  what  the 
funny  story  was  I'd  butted  in  on.  I  guess  he  decided 
I  looked  easy.  Anyway,  he  began  to  swell  out  his 
chest  and  spout  about  how  he  wasn't  going  to  be 
ordered  around  by  any  sophomore,  and  a  lot  of  big 
talk  like  that.  It  would  have  made  you  sore  if  you'd 
been  there — it  couldn't  have  helped  it." 

"  What  did  you  do  about  it?  " 

"Well,  I  wasn't  sore  at  first:  it  struck  me  sort 
of  funny.  But  he  got  so  fresh  after  a  while  that  it 
was  sickening.  I  put  on  my  scowl  and  says :  '  Look 
here,  Mr.  Freshman,  are  you  trying  to  be  funny,  or  do 
you  mean  all  this  stuff  you're  talking?  '  He  swelled 
up  some  more  and  said  he  meant  it  all  right.  '  All 
right,'  says  I,  '  I  think  you  and  me'll  go  for  a  little 
stroll  together.'  I  guess  the  rest  of  'em  were  looking 
for  a  fight  then,  but  there  wasn't  any.  He  went 
along  out  with  me  without  making  any  fuss  at  all. 
Well,  the  stroll  we  took  was  quite  some  stroll,  let 
me  inform  you.  He  didn't  have  the  nerve  to  scrap 
or  I'd  have  licked  him.  I  was  just  mad  enough  to 
wish  he  would.  He  did  everything  I  told  him  to, 
but  he  did  it  in  the  nastiest  way  he  could  think  of, 
and  sassed  me  till  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  from 
punching  his  head." 

"  That's  what  I'd  have  done,"  interposed  Haw- 
kins gruffly. 

36 


SIZING   UP 

"  Well,  I  knew  that  was  against  the  principles  of 
Mr.  Chanler,  here,  and  besides  I  was  afraid  that 
was  just  what  he  was  looking  for — he  seemed  just 
like  the  sort  of  a  mutt  that  would  get  a  man  to  hit 
him  and  then  run  and  tattle  about  it  to  the  faculty. 
So  I  just  kept  him  on  the  jump  till  I  was  pretty 
near  dead  myself.  It  got  to  be  twelve  o'clock.  I'd 
been  making  him  climb  telegraph  poles,  and  bark 
at  the  moon,  and  sing,  and  jump  ditches,  and  he  did 
every  blooming  thing,  but  he  stayed  just  as  fresh  as 
ever.  Finally  I  decided  to  take  him  down  to  the 
river.  I  was  rippin'  mad  clear  through,  and  I 
thought  he'd  show  fight  at  that.  I  knew  if  he'd 
fight  I  could  take  it  out  of  him  all  right.  I  told 
him  I  was  going  to  duck  him,  and  I  think  I  could 
have  done  it  at  that — he's  as  big  as  I  am,  but  he 
hasn't  any  more  backbone  than  a  caterpillar.  He 
went  along  without  kicking  a  bit.  I  kept  remarking 
how  nice  and  cool  the  water  would  be  and  how  nice 
and  far  from  home  we  were,  and  he  just  grinned  a 
sickly  grin  and  tried  to  be  sarcastic.  He  wasn't  very 
strong  for  my  little  scheme,  but  he  couldn't  get  up 
his  nerve  to  call  a  halt,  so  we  kept  on." 

"  You're  a  persevering  customer,"  said  Hawkins 
as  McCarthy  got  up  to  toss  the  butt  of  his  cigarette 
out  the  window.  "  I  can't  see  myself  prowling 
around  the  country  in  the  dark  for  any  freshman 
living." 

4  37 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  The  moon  came  up  about  half  past  eleven 
and  we  could  see  well  enough.  Finally  we  got 
across  the  fields  and  down  to  the  river — that  wide, 
shallow  part  just  before  you  come  to  the  pool 
where  we  tried  to  go  swimming  last  spring.  He 
stopped  on  the  bank  and  looked  at  me  with  that 
sickly  grin,  and  says,  '  Well,  go  ahead  and  duck 
me.'  That  was  calling  my  bluff  pretty  strong,  and 
I  grabbed  hold  of  his  arm,  when  he  gave  a  quick 
sort  of  a  twist  and  landed  me  with  one  foot  in  the 
water." 

"  Thus  wetting  one  leg  up  to  the  knee,  as  Billiam 
has  observed,"  interpolated  Chanler. 

"  While  I  was  getting  out  he  beat  it,  and  I  was 
fool  enough  to  chase  him.  And  I  didn't  get  him." 
McCarthy  looked  around  the  company  with  a  rueful 
twist  on  his  freckled  face. 

"  Rather  fresh,  wasn't  he?  "  remarked  Durham 
gravely. 

"  He  certainly  gave  me  a  run  before  he  finally 
dodged  me.  I  don't  know  how  many  miles  away 
it  landed  me,  but  it  was  quarter  to  five  when  I 
got  back  to  the  house.  I  was  so  dead  to  the  world 
I  just  passed  away  on  the  couch  without  taking  my 
clothes  off." 

"  Bill  gave  the  outline  of  those  doings  pretty 
well,  I  should  say,"  said  Durham.  "  You  can't  call 
that  nothing  but  imagination,  Husky." 

38 


SIZING   UP 

"  What  made  you  rush  out  in  such  a  hurry  this 
morning?  "  asked  Bill. 

"  I  began  to  think  of  that  poor  fool  wandering 
around  in  the  woods." 

"  Oh,  he'll  find  his  way  back  all  right.  You  can't 
get  lost  very  permanently  anywhere  around  Tresh- 
am,"  said  Gray. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  Send 
out  a  search  party?  "  questioned  Durham. 

"  He's  back  already.  That's  what  I  got  up  so 
blamed  early  to  find  out.  I  didn't  oversleep,  Bill. 
You  struck  it  wrong  there.  I  was  up  before  any  of 
you  were,  I  bet,  and  it  wasn't  Butt  I  was  looking 
for.  It  was  that  fellow  Nichols,  and  I  found  him 
all  right!" 

"Where  was  he?" 

"  Up  in  his  room.  He'd  routed  out  a  lot  of 
freshmen,  and  there  he  was,  holding  forth  on  how 
he'd  fooled  the  sophomores,  just  like  last  night.  The 
reason  I  wasn't  at  chapel  was  because  I  stopped  to 
have  a  little  talk  with  him." 

"  I  don't  see  where  your  night's  work  did  very 
much  good,"  said  Hawkins.  "  Hadn't  he  calmed 
down  at  all?" 

"  Not  a  bit.  I  tried  to  reason  with  him,  a  la 
Butt,  and  he  just  sat  there  and  grinned.  Finally 
he  did  get  ugly,  and  began  to  make  threats." 

"  Is  he  going  to  tell?  "  demanded  Butt. 

39 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  No,  they  weren't  those  kind  of  threats.  He 
just  told  me  I'd  gone  too  far  and  I'd  be  sorry.  He 
said  he  wasn't  going  to  make  any  trouble  with  the 
faculty  or  anything  like  that.  He  was  going  to 
follow  my  own  methods,  and  I  needn't  think  I  could 
skin  out  of  it,  because  I  couldn't." 

"What  did  he  mean?" 

"  You've  got  me.  I  don't  know.  That's  what 
I  wanted  to  see  you  about." 

"  Oh,  he  was  just  hot-airing!  "  exclaimed  Haw- 
kins. "  I  should  think  you'd  heard  enough  of  his 
talk  to  know  that." 

"  That's  what  I  thought,  but  this  was  different. 
He  didn't  blow  so  hard  about  it,  for  one  thing.  He 
got  real  quiet  and  serious,  and  mad,  the  way  he 
didn't  get  all  last  night,  and  said  that  no  sophomore 
would  ever  try  that  kind  of  hazing  again.  He  said 
it  was  hard  luck  that  I  should  be  the  victim,  but  I'd 
brought  it  on  myself,  and  there  wasn't  any  use 
trying  to  dodge  it,  for  I  couldn't.  The  whole  sopho- 
more class  can't  save  me,  he  says." 

"  Nonsense !  "  exclaimed  Butt.  "  He  was  string- 
ing you." 

"  Maybe  he  was,  but  it's  a  different  kind  of 
stringing  than  I  ever  ran  up  against  before." 

"  He's  got  you  scared !  " 

Strangely  enough,  McCarthy  did  not  go  up  in  the 
air  at  this  accusation. 

40 


SIZING   UP 

"  No,  he  hasn't,"  he  answered  seriously.  "  But 
he's  got  me  guessing.  He  was  so  quiet  and  cock- 
sure about  it.  I  want  to  know  what's  up !  " 

"  Maybe  he's  going  to  throw  a  bomb  at  you," 
suggested  Durham. 

"  No ;  but  he's  really  got  some  kind  of  a  game 
on.  After  I'd  left  his  room  I  hung  around  and 
watched.  He  went  out  and  waited  outside  the  chapel 
till  the  fellows  came  out,  and  then  he  nabbed  a 
couple  of  them  and  they  went  off  whispering.  When 
they  saw  me  following,  they  broke  up — and  then 
I  came  down  here." 

"  They  can't  do  anything  to  you,"  said  Butt. 

"  Of  course  they  can't.  I'm  not  worrying  about 
that.  But  I  don't  like  to  be  puzzled  so !  "  Mc- 
Carthy scowled  at  the  floor,  deep  in  thought. 

Suddenly  his   face  lighted. 

"I  know!    Bill!" 

"  What  about  me?  "  asked  Bill. 

"  You  can  find  out,"  cried  McCarthy. 

Bill  laughed. 

"  That's  in  a  different  line,"  he  said.  "  I'm  no 
good  at  finding  out  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  But  listen!  The  fellows  here  don't  know  you 
yet — the  freshmen  especially.  You  can  pass  your- 
self off  as  a  freshman  and  get  in  with  'em,  and 
find  out  the  whole  business." 

Bill  laughed  again. 

41 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

"  I  don't  think  that  would  work,"  he  said. 

"  Of  course  it  would !  You  fooled  us  last  night. 
Why  can't  you  do  the  same  with  a  lot  of  freshmen?  " 

"  You  could,  Bill,"  put  in  Hawkins.  "  Why  don't 
you?" 

"  I  think  you're  making  a  lot  of  fuss  over 
nothing  at  all,"  protested  Butt.  "  What's  the  use 
of  dragging  Bill  into  it?  " 

"  Now  don't  you  go  to  butting  in !  I  know  there 
is  something!  Won't  you  do  it,  Bill — at  least,  try 
it?" 

."  I  don't  mind  trying  it,  but  don't  blame  me  if 
you're  blown  up  or  something  like  that  before  I  find 
out." 

McCarthy  grinned. 

"  I'll  risk  it.  You  know,  Bill,  I  think  you're 
pretty  good,  and  I  wouldn't  say  that  unless  I  meant 
it."  ' 

"  Doesn't  that  mean  the  end  of  the  hour?  " 
asked  Bill  suddenly,  listening  to  the  sound  of  a  bell 
ringing.  "By  golly!  I'll  miss  my  first  recitation  if 
I  don't  look  out.  I'll  see  you  fellows  later — stay 
here  if  you  want  to,  but  I've  got  to  run." 

He  was  out  of  the  room  and  down  the  stairs 
before  the  bell  stopped  ringing,  and  when  the  rest 
of  them  had  reached  the  sidewalk,  he  was  already 
breasting  the  top  of  the  campus  hill. 


CHAPTER    III 

TRAILING  A  FRESHMAN 

BILL  was  to  meet  Chanler  after  lunch  at  the 
Glee  Club  trials,  which  were  to  be  held  in  the 
small  chapel  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  there 
report  what  he  had  learned  about  the  Nichols  con- 
spiracy. Durham  had  stolen  a  covert  glance  at  Butt 
and  Hawkins  had  openly  stared  when  Bill  announced 
that  he  was  going  out  for  the  Glee  Club,  though 
they  made  no  comment.  When  he  had  left  them, 
however,  Hawkins  said  that  he  felt  it  would  be 
nothing  less  than  kindness  to  tell  him  gently  but 
firmly  that  any  attempt  to  do  anything  with  such  a 
voice  as  his  was  a  sheer  waste  of  time.  Butt  merely 
smiled.  He  was  inclined  to  think  that  Bill  could  look 
out  for  himself,  and  he  had  his  own  worries  when 
it  came  to  trials.  Butt  had  not  gone  in  for  musical 
glory  the  year  before,  but  this  year  he  was  trying 
for  both  the  Glee  and  Mandolin  Clubs,  hoping  that 
his  being  able  to  double  up  and  save  them  an  extra 
man  might  make  up  for  the  fact  that  he  wasn't  very 
much  of  a  singer  and  only  a  fair  mandolin  player. 

43 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

They  both  showed  up  for  the  trials  early.  There 
were  fifteen  or  twenty  men,  mostly  freshmen,  already 
waiting,  and  an  upperclassman  was  playing  rag-time 
on  the  rattly  old  piano,  while  a  sober-faced  senior 
danced  a  double-shuffle  by  himself  in  the  corner. 

Bill  was  standing  by  the  window  when  Butt  came 
up  to  him. 

"  We'd  better  not  be  seen  talking  together,"  Bill 
said,  lowering  his  voice.  "  I  can't  keep  up  this  fresh- 
man pose  very  long  anyway,  and  some  one  would  be 
sure  to  wonder  if  they  saw  me  talking  to  you.  They 
all  know  you,  you  know." 

"  All  right — I'll  manage  to  see  you  somehow 
before  we  get  through,"  and  Butt  strolled  over  to  the 
piano. 

Presently  Tod  Smith,  the  leader  of  the  club, 
arrived  in  company  with  a  Kappa  Chi  senior  whom 
Bill  had  already  met  at  the  house — a  big,  rosy-faced 
blond,  who  had  signed  himself  "  F.  E.  Colchester  " 
when  he  first  came  to  college  and  then  immediately 
changed  it  to  "  Franklin  Eugene  "  because  they  be- 
gan at  once  to  call  him  "  Effie."  But  the  nickname 
had  stuck,  in  spite  of  his  six  feet  and  two  hundred 
and  odd  pounds  and  the  deep  voice  that  made  him 
a  tower  of  strength  on  the  second  bass  part  of  the 
Glee  Club. 

"Hello,  Bill!  Going  to  join  the  songbirds?" 
he  stopped  to  question  as  he  passed.  "  What  part?  " 

44 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

"  Tenor,  I  guess.    Any  chance  ?  " 

"  Every  chance,  if  you're  first  tenor.  The  part's 
pretty  weak." 

The  leader  rapped  sharply  on  the  piano  rack  to 
call  attention. 

"  You'll  draw  lots  for  trials,"  he  announced, 
taking  a  handful  of  paper  slips  from  his  pocket, 
"  and  then  wait  outside.  Please  be  right  ready 
when  your  turn  comes:  we  want  to  run  'em  off  as 
fast  as  we  can." 

There  was  a  scramble  for  the  numbered  paper 
slips  and  then  a  general  exodus  into  the  hall  outside. 
Bill  had  drawn  Number  3,  so  he  waited  by  the  door. 
Butt  stopped  at  his  side  for  an  instant  as  he  passed, 
holding  up  his  slip  so  that  the  number  "  15  "  showed, 
and  then  went  on  into  the  big  chapel,  with  a  meaning 
glance  over  his  shoulder  as  the  door  closed  behind 
him. 

"Have  you  ever  tried  for  the  club  before?" 
politely  asked  a  freshman  behind  Bill,  combining  in 
his  question  a  natural  opening  to  conversation  and 
a  feeler  as  to  what  class  Bill  belonged  to. 

"  No:  this  is  my  first  year  here." 

The  freshman's  face  lighted  with  fellow  feeling. 
"  Say,"  and  his  tone  was  decidedly  less  formal, 
"  what  do  they  do  at  these  trials  anyway?  I  sup- 
pose it's  foolish,  but  I've  got  sort  of  an  attack  of 
stage-fright." 

45 


The  question  was  partially  answered  from  the 
room  where  the  first  trial  had  just  begun:  a  nervous 
and  shaky  voice  was  mounting  uncertainly  up  the 
scale,  to  break  dismally  on  a  high  note. 

"  I  guess  he  has  stage-fright,  too,"  Bill  replied. 
"  I  suppose  they  make  allowances  for  that,  but  really 
there  isn't  much  to  be  scared  of.  They  just  want 
you  to  show  whether  you  can  sing  or  not.  If  you 
can  you're  what  they're  looking  for,  and  you're  all 
right." 

The  freshman  looked  dubious. 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  not  much  of  a  singer  when  it 
comes  to  scales  and  fancy  business.  They  made 
short  work  of  him,"  he  added,  as  the  door  opened 
and  the  first  victim  came  out,  a  sheepish  grin  on 
his  face. 

The  second  man  was  not  long  in  following,  and 
it  came  Bill's  turn.  Colchester  sat  at  the  piano  as 
he  entered,  with  Tod  Smith  standing  close  by,  tak- 
ing notes. 

"  What  part?  "  Smith  asked  shortly. 

"  Tenor." 

Smith  turned  his  back  and  walked  over  to  the 
other  side  of  the  room,  apparently  leaving  all  fur- 
ther proceedings  to  Colchester,  who  began  striking 
a  few  mechanical  chords  on  the  piano. 

'  Try  singing  up  the  scale,"  he  said,  fixing  his 
eyes  in  a  far-away  look  on  the  ceiling. 

46 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

Though  his  voice  was  light,  Bill  really  could 
sing.  As  he  went  confidently  up  the  scale  Colches- 
ter's gaze  left  the  ceiling  and  rested  on  the  singer. 
He  went  up  and  up,  and  Tod  Smith  came  hurrying 
back  from  across  the  room. 

"Whoever  told  you  he  couldn't  sing,  Effie?" 
he  demanded.  "  What  was  that  top  note  he  struck?  " 

"  B.  Can  you  go  higher?  "  Colchester  asked, 
still  looking  at  Bill. 

"  Sometimes;  but  I'm  usually  afraid  of  busting 
something." 

"  Well,  B's  high  enough  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses," Tod  Smith  remarked,  jotting  down  some- 
thing in  his  notes.  "  Can  you  read  music?  " 

"  After  a  fashion." 

"  Ever  sing  much?  " 

"  I  sang  on  our  Glee  Club  for  a  while  last 
year." 

"  Say,  Bill,  are  you  a  joker?  "  put  in  Colchester 
slowly. 

"Why,  no,  I  don't  think  so.  Why?"  Bill 
looked  puzzled  at  the  sudden  turn  the  questioning 
had  taken. 

"  You've  been  stringing  young  Hawkins  good 
and  proper,  anyway.  Hawkins  came  tumbling  into 
my  room  this  morning  to  get  me  to  try  you  out 
privately — he  has  a  kind  heart,  you  know,  and  he 
wanted  to  spare  you  the  shame  of  a  public  down- 

47 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

fall,  and  that  sort  of  thing.  He  said  you  couldn't 
sing  any  more  than  Bull  Durham  can,  and  that's 
putting  it  about  as  strong  as  possible." 

"  And  Effie  was  just  begging  me  to  let  you 
down  gently  when  you  came  in,"  added  Smith. 

Bill  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"  I  don't  blame  Hawkins  much,  but  I  thought  he 
knew.  They  took  me  for  a  freshman  last  night  and 
tried  hazing  me  a  while,  and  Hawkins  told  me  to 
sing.  You  know  they'd  rather  have  a  freshman 
sing  rottenly  than  any  other  way — it's  funnier.  So 
I  tried  to  please  them." 

"  Well,  you  tell  Hawkins  you've  been  given  a 
second  trial :  that  ought  to  set  him  wondering  some," 
said  Smith.  '  You'll  get  an  announcement  about 
when  the  second  trials  come  off.  Will  you  ask  the 
next  man  to  come  in?  " 

Colchester  gave  Bill  a  discreet  wink  as  he  turned 
toward  the  door. 

The  freshman  who  had  been  feeling  symptoms 
of  stage-fright  was  now  fast  in  the  clutches  of  it,  and 
apparently  readier  to  run  away  than  to  obey  Smith's 
summons. 

"Nothing  to-be  afraid  of,"  Bill  assured  him. 
"  Holler  right  out  at  'em." 

The  freshman  gave  a  final  screw  to  his  courage 
and  bolted  through  the  door,  while  Bill  strolled  non- 
chalantly into  the  big  chapel.  As  the  door  closed 

48 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

behind  him  Butt's  head  bobbed  up  from  behind  one 
of  the  front  seats. 

"  Better  duck  down  out  of  sight :  some  one  may 
look  in,"  he  cautioned.  "  How'd  you  come  out?" 

"  They're  going  to  give  me  a  second  trial,"  an- 
swered Bill,  curling  himself  up  on  the  seat  beside 
him. 

"  Good  work!  I  had  a  hunch  that  wasn't  a  real 
specimen  of  your  singing  you  were  giving  us  last 
night.  But  say,  Bill,  how  about  it — this  racket  of 
Mac's,  I  mean?  I've  been  thinking  about  it  while 
I've  been  waiting  here,  and  I've  pretty  near  made  up 
my  mind  it's  all  nonsense.  This  conspiracy  business 
and  meeting  in  secret  and  everything  seems  to  me 
like  a  lot  of  foolishness.  What  did  you  find  out  this 
morning?  " 

"  I  didn't  find  out  anything  really.  I  butted 
gently  into  a  bunch  of  three  fellows  this  man  Nichols 
was  talking  with,  and  sort  of  made  myself  at  home 
with  them.  I  made  them  think  I  was  a  freshman 
all  right,  but  they  didn't  say  anything  that  was  worth 
listening  to.  I  got  friendly  enough  so  they  would 
have  talked  right  out,  I  think,  but  we  were  out- 
doors, and  that  may  have  made  a  difference.  If 
there's  really  anything  up  they  naturally  wouldn't 
have  talked  about  it  there  anyway." 

"  Couldn't  you  stick  with  them  till  they  got 
somewhere  where  they  could  talk?  " 

49 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

"I  tried  to;  the  whole  bunch  went  into  the 
Dorms,  and  I  trotted  along  with  them.  They  stuck 
together  and  made  for  one  of  the  rooms  on  the 
third  floor  and  I  thought  from  that  that  perhaps 
they  really  had  something  to  talk  over.  But  we 
ran  into  Freshman  Burnet  in  the  hall,  and  I  ducked. 
He'd  probably  have  remembered  that  automobik 
party  I  had  up  in  his  room  last  night,  and  there 
wasn't  any  use  trying  to  pass  as  a  classmate  with 
him." 

Butt  smiled. 

"No:  I  should  say  not.  Bunny  Burnet  comes 
from  the  same  town  I  do  and  I  know  him  pretty 
well.  He's  a  rather  wise  youth  in  his  way." 

'  Well,  I  didn't  take  any  chances,  so  I  don't 
know  any  more  than  I  did  before  I  started 
out." 

"  I  imagine  you  know  about  all  there  is  to  know 
at  that.  Mac  has  a  habit  of  going  up  in  the  air  once 
in  a  while,  and  you  get  him  started  and  he'll  think 
up  more  crazy  things  in  five  minutes  than  you  and 
I  could  in  a  week.  Let's  tell  him  the  whole  thing's 
rubbish!" 

"  Let's  wait  till  to-night.  I  want  to  tackle  that 
man  Nichols  again.  I  haven't  had  a  fair  shot  at 
him  yet.  Perhaps  I  can  really  settle  things  this  after- 
noon if  that  wise  freshman  of  yours  doesn't  come 
along  and  scare  me  off." 

50 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

Butt  still  thought  it  was  all  rubbish,  but  he  as- 
sented. 

"  All  right,  if  you  want  to,  but  I  think  it's  a 
waste  of  time.  Perhaps  I  can  get  hold  of  Bunny 
Burnet  and  keep  him  occupied  for  a  while." 

"  I  wish  you  would.  When  I'm  sleuthing,  I 
want  to  sleuth  without  any  interruptions.  When 
do  you  think  you  can  get  the  coast  clear?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I'll  see  how  many  men  there 
are  ahead  of  me  now.  I  may  have  time  to  hunt  him 
up  before  my  turn  comes.  But  I  don't  want  to  miss 
warbling  for  Tod  Smith:  it  may  be  the  last  chance 
I'll  ever  have." 

"  They  won't  get  to  you  for  half  an  hour  yet. 
They  spend  at  least  five  minutes  with  each  man 
and  they  didn't  start  till  after  half  past  one: 
you're  Number  15,  and  that  makes  it  twenty  min- 
utes of  three  before  they'll  get  to  you,  at  the 
earliest." 

"Great  head  you've  got  for  mathematics,  Bill! 
Let's  beat  it  then.  I'll  go  first  and  you  can  stroll 
along  afterwards.  Do  you  suppose  we're  fooling 
anybody  by  all  these  precautions?"  Butt  stood  up 
and  shook  himself. 

Bill  laughed  as  he  got  to  his  feet. 

"  Probably  not,  but  probably  nobody's  paying 
any  attention  to  us.  But  what's  the  harm?  " 

"  Well,  you  keep  watch,  and  if  all  goes  well, 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

you'll  see  Freshman  Burnet  led  forth  very  shortly," 
and  Butt  hurried  out. 

The  flock  of  would-be  songsters  had  thinned 
perceptibly  when  Bill  at  length  ventured  into  the  hall. 
The  upperclassmen  among  them  had  gone  outdoors 
to  wait,  where  they  had  captured  a  freshman  who 
had  been  carelessly  straying  about  the  campus,  and 
compelled  him  to  do  stunts  for  their  amusement.  Bill 
saw  what  was  going  on  and  went  out  by  a  side  door. 
He  did  not  care  about  playing  the  part  of  a  first-year 
man  to  the  extent  of  offering  himself  as  another 
victim.  He  kept  carefully  out  of  sight,  and  finally 
took  up  his  station  in  the  lower  hall  of  South  College, 
where  Burnet  roomed.  He  had  been  there  only  a 
few  minutes  when  Butt  came  down  the  stairs. 

"  I  guess  you'll  find  the  coast  clear  now,"  he 
said.  "  Bunny's  got  a  recitation  this  hour.  The 
hour's  nearly  up,  but  if  I  see  him  I'll  steer  him 
away." 

"  Thanks."  Bill  mounted  the  stairs  and  sought 
the  room  where  Nichols  and  his  crowd  had  gone  in 
the  morning.  He  was  just  about  to  enter  when  the 
door  opened  and  McCarthy  came  out.  McCarthy 
stopped  abruptly,  drawing  the  door  to  behind  him. 

"Did  you  find  out  anything?"  he  whispered, 
taking  Bill  by  the  arm  and  leading  him  down  the  hall. 

"No:  I'm  just  hitting  the  warpath  again.  Is 
your  man  in  there?  " 

52 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

"  No,  there's  no  one  there  but  a  freshman 
named  Robertson,  but  he's  one  of  the  gang.  I've 
just  been  in  giving  him  a  little  fatherly  advice." 

"  Then  perhaps  I'd  better  drop  in  and  offer  him 
a  little  brotherly  sympathy.  It  ought  to  go  pretty 
well  after  your  paternal  business." 

"Sure,  go  ahead.  J^nd  nose .  around,  Bill! 
There's  something  up.  I  know  it,  and  you  can  find 
out  what  it  is  if  anyone  can." 

"  Oh,  I'll  nose  around,  but  really,  Mac,  don't 
you  think  there's  a  chance  you've  struck  a  wrong 
hunch?" 

"  Wrong  hunch !  No,  sir !  Not  this  time !  Why, 
I  tell  you " 

"  We'd  better  not  be  talking  about  it  here :  some 
of  the  conspirators  might  come  along,  and  you  may 
be  right  anyway.  Only  it  doesn't  look  like  freshmen 
to  lay  plots  for  getting  even  with  sophomores:  they 
wouldn't  know  what  to  do  even  if  they  thought  of 
it.  Besides,  if  they  know  anything  at  all,  they  must 
know  they're  sure  to  get  the  worst  of  it." 

'  That  may  all  be,  but  you  take  it  from  me,  that 
fellow  Nichols  has  something  up  his  sleeve." 

"  All  right.  I'll  try  to  find  out  what  it  is.  What's 
this  fellow's  name  in  here — Robertson?  " 

'  Yes.    And  you'll  find  him  good  and  sore  unless 
he's  got  over  it." 

"  I'll  comfort  him,  then.    So  long." 

5  53 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

Robertson  was  good  and  sore,  for  a  fact.  Bill 
found  him  red  and  sulky,  and  ready  to  pour  forth 
his  grievances  into  the  first  willing  ear.  Bill  gave 
him  the  cue  at  once. 

"  Hello,  Bob,"  he  said  genially,  trusting  his 
friendly  tone  to  make  amends  if  he  struck  the  wrong 
nickname.  "  Been  having  a  visitor?  Wasn't  that 
a  sophomore  I  just  met  in  the  hall  ?  " 

"  Sophomore  ?  "  Robertson's  tone  spoke  wrath. 
"  That  was  the  fellow  that  took  Nichols  out  last 
night." 

"Oh!  "  Bill's  exclamation  was  full  of  sympa- 
thetic interest  and  the  desire  to  hear  more. 

"  I  suppose  it's  up  to  a  freshman  to  stand  a 
reasonable  amount  of  hazing  and  get  what  fun 
he  can  out  of  it.  But  there's  a  limit,  and  that 
man  McCarthy  has  just  about  reached  it  with 
me." 

"  Was  that  McCarthy  who  was  just  in  here?  " 
Bill  saw  that  Robertson  was  too  wrought  up  to  be 
hospitable,  so  he  helped  himself  to  a  chair. 

"  Yes;  he  was  here  for  ten  minutes,  jawing  me 
about  how  fresh  Nichols  is  and  how  I'd  better  not 
travel  around  with  him  too  much  if  I  don't  want  to 
queer  myself.  I  knew  Nichols  had  a  good  right  to 
be  sore  at  him,  but  I  figured  it  out  it  was  none  of 
my  business.  But  I've  changed  my  mind  now.  It's 
my  business  and  every  other  freshman's,  and  I'll 

54 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

stick  by  Nick  now  if  it  gets  the  whole  sophomore 
class  down  on  me." 

"  We  certainly  ought  to  stick  by  Nick,"  Bill 
murmured,  feeling  that  he  was  called  upon  to  express 
some  sort  of  approbation. 

"  We'll  do  it,  too !  "  Robertson  stood  up  and 
thumped  the  table  with  his  fist.  "  They  think  we 
freshmen  are  green  and  afraid,  and  can't  work 
together,  but  we'll  show  'em !  I  tell  you  my  blood's 
up,  and  I'll  see  this  thing  through  if  it  gets  the 
whole  sophomore  class  down  on  me  I  "  Robertson's 
fire  rather  died  out  as  he  realized  he  was  repeating 
himself.  "  I'll  do  it  if  I  get  expelled  from  college 
for  it!  "  he  added,  his  voice  rising  as  he  hit  upon 
the  new  climax. 

"  Er — you  don't  think  there's  any  chance  of  that, 
do  you?"  Bill  asked,  after  the  pause  of  appre- 
ciation that  Robertson's  courageous  spirit  plainly 
called  for. 

"  Well,  no.  But  it's  just  like  McCarthy  to  make 
trouble.  Nick  says  McCarthy  will  be  so  ashamed 
that  he'll  take  good  care  it  never  leaks  out  through 
him,  but  I'm  not  so  sure." 

'When  do  you  expect  it  to  come  off?"  Bill 
felt  that  it  was  time  he  was  learning  something 
definite  about  what  "  it "  was.  Evidently  Mac 
wasn't  so  far  off  in  his  suspicions  after  all. 

Robertson  looked  at  him  sharply. 

55 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  Oh,  Lord!  "  thought  Bill.  "  I've  put  my  foot 
in  it  now." 

"  Weren't  you  up  here  this  morning?  "  Robert- 
son asked  with  a  perceptible  cooling  in  his  tone. 

"  I  had  to  leave  before  we'd  got  very  far.  To 
tell  the  truth,  Bob,  I  don't  know  much  about  what 
the  plans  are.  I  don't  want  to  be  butting  in,  but  I 
can't  help  being  interested.  Of  course,  if  you  feel 
you  can't  trust  me,  I'm  sorry,  and  I  suppose  we'll 
have  to  let  it  go  at  that."  Bill  stood  up,  a  look  of 
mingled  apology  and  regret  on  his  face.  "  I  can 
honestly  say,  though,  I  don't  know  enough  about 
what's  doing  so  that  you  need  to  be  afraid  I  can  give 
anything  away." 

His  tone,  as  much  as  his  words,  probably,  had 
a  reassuring  effect,  for  Robertson  thawed  imme- 
diately. 

"  That's  all  right :  I'm  sorry  I  spoke  as  I  did. 
But  Nick  picked  his  crowd,  and  he  said  we  weren't 
to  tell  anybody  else  a  thing  about  it.  I  was  under 
the  impression  you  were  here  this  morning.  I  cer- 
tainly remember  your  coming  up  the  stairs  with  us. 
But  all  of  a  sudden  I  happened  to  think  I  didn't 
know  your  name." 

"  My  name's  Bill." 

"  Sure,  I  ought  to  have  remembered,"  but  Rob- 
ertson's tone  told  plainly  that  he  didn't  remember 
even  yet,  though  he  politely  pretended  to.  '  Well, 

56 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

it  all  depends  on  chance  a  good  deal.  If  we're 
lucky " 

He  stopped  short,  for  the  chapel  clock  had  begun 
to  strike. 

"  Three  o'clock.  Nick  will  be  up  here  in  a  few 
minutes  and  he'll  tell  you  how  things  are  to  go.  He's 
probably  made  some  changes  since  this  morning." 

Bill  acquiesced  with  outward  serenity  and  some 
inward  uneasiness.  Robertson  was  evidently  going 
to  be  more  cautious  henceforth,  feeling,  no  doubt, 
that  he  had  let  his  indignation  against  McCarthy 
make  him  too  outspoken.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
Robertson  felt  that  Bill  was  all  right,  and  was 
perfectly  willing  to  take  him  completely  into  his  con- 
fidence, but  Nichols  had  been  very  explicit  in  de- 
manding secrecy,  and  perhaps  it  was  just  as  well  to 
wait. 

Bill  awaited  Nichols's  coming  with  a  good  deal 
of  curiosity.  Even  if  he  succeeded  in  learning 
nothing  more,  the  mere  certainty  that  something  was 
really  afoot  was  enough  to  keep  the  sophomores 
from  being  led  into  anything  very  dreadful.  But 
Bill  wanted  more  definite  information.  Whatever 
plan  was  being  concocted  was  evidently  to  be  directed 
against  McCarthy,  rather  than  against  the  sopho- 
more class,  and  that  gave  it  a  personal  interest  that 
made  him  anxious  to  know  as  much  about  it  as  he 
could.  He  liked  McCarthy.  So  he  sat  waiting,  and 

57 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

wondered  meanwhile  how  much  more  juggling  with 
fact  he  would  have  to  do  before  he  was  done. 

Nichols  was  not  long  in  coming,  and  he  brought 
two  others  with  him.  Bill  had  picked  up  a  magazine 
that  lay  on  Robertson's  desk  and  was  busy  looking 
at  it,  but  he  nodded  to  them  as  they  came  in,  keeping 
his  seat  serenely,  as  though  his  being  there  was  quite 
a  matter  of  course.  Without  appearing  to  do  so, 
he  saw  Nichols  look  at  him  sharply  and  then  ex- 
change glances  with  Robertson.  Robertson  beck- 
oned Nichols  over  to  the  window,  and  Bill  could 
even  get  the  drift  of  what  passed  between  them. 

"  He's  all  right.  His  name's  Bill.  I  don't  know 
his  last  name,"  he  heard  Robertson  whisper  earnest- 
ly. "  He's  as  strong  against  McCarthy  as  any  of  us." 

"  Does  he  know  all  about  it?  "  and  from  the 
corner  of  his  eye  Bill  could  see  that  Nichols  was 
looking  him  over. 

"No:  he  just  knows  there  is  something;  that's 
all.  Let's  let  him  in  on  it !  " 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  he's  all  right.  I  wanted  one 
more  man  anyway.  I  asked  that  fellow  Rowson, 
upstairs,  to  come  around — he's  pretty  sore  at  the 
sophomores,  but  one  extra  won't  do  any  harm." 

Nichols  came  over  and  leaned  against  the  table 
beside  Bill,  and  Bill,  taking  that  as  a  prelude  to 
conversation,  laid  down  his  magazine  and  looked  up 
at  him.  This  rebellious  freshman  was  not  especially 

58 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

prepossessing  to  look  at,  certainly.  He  was  inclined 
to  fatness,  a  lazy,  flabby  fat,  and  his  face  seemed 
to  be  continually  perspiring.  He  had  an  unpleasant 
mouth,  and  his  eyes  certainly  gave  some  ground  for 
McCarthy's  adjective — shifty. 

"  So  you  want  to  come  in  on  this  McCarthy 
deal?  "  he  remarked  with  a  rather  heavy  attempt  at 
friendliness. 

"  Sure." 

"  Why?     Do  you  know  him?  " 

"  Well,  I  haven't  had  any  trouble  with  McCar- 
thy myself,  but  I'd  like  to  be  in  on  this.  I  should 
think  it  would  be  pretty  good  fun." 

"  I  guess  it  will — but  not  for  him,"  and  Nichols 
smiled  widely.  "  The  fact  is,  we're  just  picking  him 
out  as  an  example.  The  whole  thing's  a  matter  of 
principle.  This  hazing  business  isn't  right.  A  little 
of  it  may  do  very  well  in  a  way,  but,  after  all,  it  isn't 
right,  and  sophomores  carry  it  too  far.  McCarthy's 
a  good  example  because  he's  one  of  the  worst  ones 
at  it.  I  say  they'll  cut  it  out  if  the  freshmen  really 
put  up  an  opposition.  The  trouble  is,  freshmen  have 
stood  for  it  so  long  they  think  they've  always  got  to." 

"  So  this  is  going  to  be  a  sort  of  revolution," 
remarked  Bill  thoughtfully. 

"  That's  putting  it  rather  big,  but  I  think  it  will 
open  people's  eyes  a  little.  There  are  only  half  a 
dozen  of  us — you  make  seven.  We're  all  here  now 

59 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

but  Rowson  and  Burnet,  and  they'll  be  here  in  a 
minute  or  two,  and  then  we'll  talk  the  whole  thing 
over.  I  haven't  got  the  plans  all  worked  out  yet, 
but  I  have  pretty  nearly.  We  want  to  pull  the  thing 
off  to-night  if  we  can,  because  to-morrow  night's 
the  flag  rush  and  1  suppose  we'll  all  be  pretty  well 
tired  out  after  that." 

Burnet !  That  man  was  bobbing  up  everywhere. 
Bill  seemed  fated  not  to  escape  him.  And  he  was 
coming  in  a  few  minutes  to  take  part  in  this  council 
of  war!  Bill  was  half  minded  to  beat  a  retreat 
immediately,  but  his  curiosity  to  know  more  details 
got  the  better  of  him.  If  Butt  did  his  duty,  it  would 
be  considerably  more  than  a  few  minutes  before 
Freshman  Burnet  would  be  free  to  do  any  plotting. 

"  What's  your  idea  ?  "  he  asked,  hoping  to  get 
some  general  scheme  of  things  before  the  real  coun- 
cil began.  Then  if  it  were  necessary  he  could  flee 
before  Burnet  had  a  chance  to  spot  him. 

"  We're  going  to  give  McCarthy  some  of  his 
own  medicine — haze  him  good  and  proper,  until  he 
squeals  for  help.  When  we  get  through  with  him 
I  rather  imagine  he'll  let  freshmen  alone.  We " 

The  door  opened  suddenly  and  Bill  turned 
around  with  a  start.  But  it  was  Rowson  who  came 
in,  and  alone.  He  was  panting  and  he  slammed 
the  door  quickly  behind  him  and  turned  the  key  in 
the  lock.  They  all  stared  at  him  in  amazement. 

60 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  demanded  Nichols. 

"  Chanler's  got  a  lot  of  sophomores  together  and 
they're  having  a  hazing  party  down  back  of  the 
chapel.  They  catch  the  fellows  coming  up  from 
recitations  and  keep  them  there  doing  stunts.  I 
think  they  got  Burnet,  but  I  ran  and  got  away."  He 
stopped  to  catch  his  breath,  leaning  against  the  door. 

"  It  won't  do  any  good  to  lock  the  door,"  de- 
clared Robertson,  going  over  and  turning  the  key 
again.  "  If  they  come  looking  for  anybody  they'll 
know  we're  here  just  the  minute  they  find  the  door 
locked,  and  then  they'll  smash  it  down  if  we  don't 
let  'em  in." 

"  We  can  go  into  the  bedroom,"  said  Nichols. 
"  They  won't  be  likely  to  look  in  there.  I  guess  we'd 
better  not  wait  any  longer  for  Burnet.  If  he  gets 
away  he  ought  to  know  where  to  find  us." 

Bill  almost  smiled  with  satisfaction.  Butt  was 
doing  his  duty,  and  all  was  well. 

Robertson's  was  one  of  the  few  rooms  in  the 
Dorms  with  a  small  sleeping  room  adjoining.  Into 
this  they  now  trooped,  closing  the  door  behind  them. 
Bill  curled  himself  up  on  the  farthest  corner  of  the 
bed,  and  the  others  arranged  themselves  where  they 
could.  As  befitted  the  leader,  Nichols  kept  the  floor. 

"  I'm  sorry  Burnet  isn't  here,  because  he's 
pretty  good  at  planning,"  he  began,  "  but  I  guess 
we  can  get  along.  The  first  thing  we  want  to  do 

61 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

is  to  get  hold  of  McCarthy.  That  oughtn't  to  be 
so  very  hard,  because  he's  sure  to  be  around  the 
Dorms  somewhere,  but  the  trouble  will  be  to  catch 
him  alone.  He  thinks  this  is  my  room  here,  because 
he  found  me  here  last  night,  so  he  told  me  to  be 
here,  sure,  at  nine  o'clock.  But  he'll  have  somebody 
with  him." 

"  Don't  you  room  in  the  Dorms?  "  asked  Bill. 

"  No,  I've  got  a  room  uptown." 

"Why  not  let  him  go  there  for  you?  There 
wouldn't  be  so  many  around,"  suggested  Robertson. 

"  That  would  be  all  right  if  he  were  coming 
around  alone,  but  I  don't  think  he  is.  He  tried  to 
manage  me  alone  last  night,  and  I  don't  think  he'll 
try  it  again." 

A  smile  flickered  over  Bill's  face,  safely  con- 
cealed behind  Robertson's  back. 

"  I  don't  see  how  we're  going  to  make  any  defi- 
nite plans  when  we  don't  know  how  many  people 
he's  going  to  have  with  him,"  objected  Rowson 
querulously. 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  suggested  Bill.  It  had  been 
striking  him  more  and  more  strongly  that  this  wasn't 
a  very  brave  lot  of  conspirators  after  all.  With  the 
exception  of  Robertson  and  Burnet,  who,  according 
to  Butt,  was  all  right,  they  seemed  to  be  nothing 
more  than  a  bunch  of  sore-heads,  without  the  ability 
to  lay  a  real  plan  or  the  courage  to  carry  it  out. 

62 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

For  an  instant  he  was  tempted  to  reveal  what  he 
was,  express  his  disgust  with  them  and  tell  them 
they  were  a  lot  of  silly  fools.  But  he  decided  that 
that  would  be  letting  Nichols  off  too  easily. 

"  Let's  have  it  then,"  said  Nichols  shortly. 

"  You  know  I  room  in  a  private  house  myself — 
Mrs.  Sleeper's,  the  little  brown  house  just  across 
the  street  down  the  hill.  McCarthy  was  going  to 
have  some  fun  with  me  last  night,  but  I  skipped 
away  from  him,  and  I  have  an  idea  he'll  be 
around  to  see  me  to-night.  I  don't  imagine  he's 
afraid  of  me,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  came 
alone." 

"  Just  the  thing:  we'll  all  be  there!  "  exclaimed 
Nichols. 

"  No ! — my  landlady  wouldn't  stand  for  any 
rumpus  in  the  house.  But  you  can  be  outside  and 
get  him  when  he  comes  out." 

"  But  suppose  he  brings  some  one  with  him?  " 
asked  Rowson. 

"  He  won't  bring  the  whole  class  with  him," 
put  in  Robertson.  "  I  guess  with  seven  of  us  we 
can  manage  two  or  three  extra  ones — half  a  dozen, 
if  necessary.  We're  a  lot  of  poor  sticks  if  we  can't." 

"  S-sh!  Some  one's  coming!  "  interrupted  Row- 
son. 

Nichols  opened  the  door  a  crack  and  peered  into 
the  study. 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?  Come  on  in.  It's  Burnet," 
he  added  in  explanation. 

Bill  crouched  farther  back  in  his  corner,  doing 
his  best  to  hide  behind  Robertson. 

"  Well,  what's  the  scheme?  "  asked  Burnet,  clos- 
ing the  door  behind  him. 

"  We've  got  it  all  fixed  up,"  began  Nichols 
enthusiastically.  "  Bill  is  going  to  have  him  down 
at  his  room  and " 

"Bill?     Bill  who?" 

"  That  Bill  over  there.  McCarthy's  going  down 
to  his  room,  and  we're  all  going  to  be  waiting  out- 
side and  nab  him  when  he  comes  out.  Then  we'll 
take  him  in  hand  and  give  him  what's  coming  to 
him.  We  won't  need  any  plan  for  that :  all  we  want 
is  to  get  hold  of  him." 

It  was  no  use  trying  to  hide  any  longer.  Bill 
knew  that  Burnet  had  moved  so  as  to  get  a  look  at 
him,  and  all  the  time  Nichols  was  speaking  he  knew 
it  was  only  a  question  of  seconds  before  the  cat  was 
hopelessly  out  of  the  bag.  He  was  right.  The  last 
word  was  hardly  out  of  Nichols's  mouth  when  Bur- 
net  spoke. 

"  You  are  a  prize  lot!  "  he  cried.  "  Don't  you 
know  one  of  your  own  class  when  you  see  him?  " 
From  where  he  was  lying  Bill  could  not  see  Burnet, 
but  he  could  see  Nichols  and  a  sudden  startled 
expression  that  came  over  his  face.  "  Here  you 

64 


TRAILING   A    FRESHMAN 

are  plotting  against  a  sophomore,"  Burnet  went  on, 
"  with  one  of  them  right " 

He  got  no  farther.  With  a  heavy  lunge  that 
sent  a  pile  of  books  clattering  to  the  floor,  Nichols 
bolted  for  the  door. 

"  They're  coming !  They  mustn't  see  us  togeth- 
er! "  he  cried,  running  through  the  study.  The 
others  followed,  startled  and  wondering,  Bill  last 
of  all.  When  he  reached  the  hall  Burnet  was  the 
only  one  in  sight. 

"  There's  no  one  here !  "  Burnet  exclaimed.  "  I 
wonder  why  he  did  that?" 

"  I  wonder,"  Bill  echoed.     And  he  really  did. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    OUTCOME 

FORTUNE,  in  the  shape  of  Nichols,  had  un- 
accountably saved  Bill  from  disclosure  for  the 
time  being,  and  he  saw  no  reason  to  think 
that  the  freshmen  who  had  been  in  Robertson's  room 
were  suspicious  of  him.     But  it  was  no  fault  of 
Burnet's  that  the  whole  business  was  not  hopelessly 
spoiled,  and  Bill  knew  that  Nichols's  sudden  break- 
ing up  of  the  meeting  had  only  postponed  revelations 
till  Burnet  should  have  another  chance  to  talk  with 
his  fellow-conspirators. 

They  stood  in  the  empty  hall,  the  freshman  and 
the  sophomore,  looking  at  each  other  and  wonder- 
ing. Bill  was  inclined  to  be  amused,  but  Burnet  saw 
nothing  but  the  utmost  seriousness  in  the  turn  things 
had  taken. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I  wish  you'd  take  a  little 
walk  with  me,"  said  Bill,  smiling. 

"  Where  to?  "  Burnet's  tone  was  a  shade  sus- 
picious. 

"  Oh,  anywhere.  Down  to  my  room,  perhaps. 
We  might  as  well  go  there  as  anywhere." 

66 


THE   OUTCOME 

"  You  want  to  get  me  out  of  the  way,  so  I 
won't  tell  those  fellows  what  I  started  to,  don't 
you?" 

"  Yes — incidentally.  But  more  than  that,  I  want 
to  have  a  little  talk  with  you." 

"  We  can  talk  up  in  my  room." 

"  I  know,  but  we  might  be  interrupted.  I  wish 
you'd  do  as  I  ask !  I'm  not  talking  to  you  now  as  a 
sophomore  to  a  freshman.  I  understand  you've 
pledged  Kappa  Chi.  That's  my  fraternity,  too — I 
guess  you  knew  it.  You  and  I  ought  to  be  good 
friends,  then,  and  it's  on  that  basis  I  want  to  talk 
with  you.  If  there  is  any  need  to  order  you  around 
as  a  freshman,  some  one  else  will  have  to  do  it." 

"  All  right,  I'll  come,"  and  they  started  down 
the  stairs.  Burnet  did  not  say  a  word  all  the  way 
to  Mrs.  Sleeper's,  but  there  was  plainly  something 
on  his  mind.  Once  he  even  opened  his  mouth  to 
speak,  and  then  thought  better  of  it.  But  they  were 
hardly  in  Bill's  room  before  he  blurted  it  out. 

"  What  are  you  mixed  up  in  this  thing  for?  "  he 
asked. 

"  That's  the  very  thing  I  was  going  to  ask  you." 

11 1  asked  first." 

"All  right.  McCarthy  got  wind  that  Nichols 
had  some  kind  of  a  scheme  on,  though  he  didn't 
know  he  was  going  to  figure  so  prominently  in  it 
himself,  and  he  asked  me  if  I  couldn't  find  out  what 

67 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

it  was.  It  was  easier  for  me  to  do  it  because  I'm 
a  new  man  and  there  was  a  chance  that  I  could  pass 
myself  off  for  a  freshman  without  being  found  out. 
I  did  it  for  the  fun  of  the  thing  at  first,  but  I'm 
interested  now,  and  I'm  going  to  see  it  through." 

"  Do  you  think  you're  acting  fair?  " 

"  Of  course !  You  know  that  old  chestnut  about 
everything's  being  fair  in  war — and  when  freshmen 
rebel  against  the  divine  right  of  sophomores  I  think 
you  can  call  it  war." 

"  I  suppose  you  call  that  class  spirit !  " 

"  In  a  way,  though  I  haven't  got  a  great  deal  of 
class  spirit  yet — not  the  real  thing.  You  see,  I've 
only  been  a  member  of  this  class  for  about  a  day." 

"  Is  it  because  you're  a  friend  of  McCarthy's?  " 

"  More  or  less.  I  don't  know  McCarthy  very 
well,  but  I  like  him.  Still,  that  isn't  all.  But  haven't 
you  been  cross-examining  me  long  enough  for  a 
while?  You  might  tell  me  why  you're  in  it — and 
you  might  as  well  sit  down  as  stand  up." 

Bill  threw  himself  on  the  couch,  but  Burnet  re- 
mained standing. 

"  I'm  in  it  because  McCarthy  hasn't  acted  right," 
he  cried.  "  He's  mean  and  he's  a  coward!  " 

"  What  has  he  done  to  you?  " 

"  Nothing.  But  that's  only  because  he  happened 
to  pick  out  somebody  else.  Nobody  but  a  mean 
coward  would  do  what  he  did  to  Nichols  last  night." 

68 


THE   OUTCOME 

Bill  grinned. 

"  But  I  thought  Nichols  rather  got  the  best  of 
it.  That's  what  he  says,  anyway." 

"  Oh,  I  know  Nick  is  a  sort  of  a  blower,  and  he 
likes  to  hear  himself  talk.  But  you  ought  to  have 
seen  him  when  he  got  back  this  morning." 

"  You  ought  to  have  seen  McCarthy,  for  that 
matter.  Is  Nichols  a  special  friend  of  yours?  " 

"  No:  it's  just  the  principle  of  the  thing." 

"  Then  you're  acting  out  of  class  spirit,  too." 

"  Yes — and  college  spirit.  It's  a  disgrace  to 
Tresham  College  to  have  things  happening  like  what 
happened  last  night!  A  man  like  McCarthy  ought 
to  be  taught  a  lesson." 

u  If  you  lived  in  Russia  you'd  be  an  anarchist, 
Burnet,"  Bill  remarked,  going  over  to  his  desk  for 
his  pipe,  which  he  proceeded  to  fill  and  light  as  he 
talked.  "  Well !  When  you  get  to  talking  about 
principles,  I  don't  know.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
can't  see  such  an  awful  lot  of  use  in  hazing  anyway. 
Sometimes  it's  funny,  and  once  in  a  while  it  puts  a 
damper  on  a  man  that's  too  fresh.  But  I  don't  see 
that  it  does  an  awful  lot  of  harm  either.  That 
Nichols  business  last  night  was  a  little  more  stren- 
uous than  usual,  perhaps,  but  he  wasn't  obliged  to 
stand  for  it.  I  think  you're  wrong  when  you  say 
McCarthy's  mean  and  a  coward.  I  haven't  seen 
anything  of  that  sort  in  him  at  all.  All  you  know 
6  69 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

about  him  is  what  you've  heard  from  Nichols,  and 
you  must  admit  that  Nichols  is  prejudiced.  And  I 
can  see  without  any  trouble  at  all  just  how  Nichols 
made  McCarthy  feel." 

"How's  that?" 

"  He  was  nasty.  That  doesn't  go  with  McCar- 
thy, you  know.  Mac's  an  Irishman,  and  he's  got  an 
Irishman's  temper.  If  Nichols  had  acted  like  other 
freshmen  he'd  have  been  all  right.  That's  one  thing 
I  don't  understand  about  Nichols-r-why  he  didn't 
act  like  other  freshmen.  Because  he  hasn't  got  an 
ounce  of  nerve.  I  watched  him  a  good  deal  this 
afternoon,  and  I  sized  him  up  as  a  big,  sneaky 
coward.  He's  sore  because  McCarthy  did  get  the 
best  of  him  last  night,  in  spite  of  all  his  big  talk, 
and  because  he  has  a  nasty  disposition  he  wants  to 
get  even.  He  doesn't  dare  try  to  do  it  alone,  so 
he  gets  half  a  dozen  other  sore-heads  to  help  him 
out,  and  tries  to  get  his  man  in  the  dark,  with  every 
odd  in  his  own  favor." 

Burnet  merely  shrugged. 

"  That's  why  I  don't  understand  why  you're  hav- 
ing anything  to  do  with  it,"  Bill  went  on.  "  I  don't 
think  it's  like  you.  I  do  understand,  though,  in  a 
way.  You  think  it's  a  matter  of  principle,  and  that 
Nichols  is  in  the  right.  That's  the  way  Robertson 
feels  about  it,  too,  I  imagine.  But  the  rest  of  them 
— that  Rowson  is  just  a  sniveling  little  'fraid-cat, 

7° 


THE    OUTCOME 

and  the  other  two — I  don't  even  know  their  names — 
are  nothing  but  a  couple  of  weaklings  that  a  man 
like  Nichols  can  wind  right  'round  his  finger.  They'd 
follow  me  just  as  quick  if  I  threw  a  lot  of  big  talk  at 
them.  They  just  sat  around  this  afternoon  without 
saying  a  word  and  listened  to  the  one  that  made  the 
biggest  noise.  When  you  get  mixed  up  with  people 
like  that  I  don't  think  the  principle  pulls  so  strong. 
As  far  as  this  thing  goes,  the  principle  doesn't 
amount  to  a  rap.  It's  just  something  Nichols  has 
used  to  rope  in  you  and  Robertson.  He  had  the 
sense  to  want  two  decent  men  in  his  crowd  anyway, 
and  that's  the  way  he  took  to  get  them.  But  if  you 
stick  by  him,  you'll  see  I'm  right  about  him  and  his 
principles.  I'm  willing  to  bet  on  that." 

Still  Burnet  did  not  speak.  He  just  looked  at 
Bill,  and  whatever  he  may  have  been  thinking,  his 
face  gave  no  sign.  Bill  took  a  last  pull  at  his  pipe 
and  knocked  the  ashes  out. 

"  Why  don't  you  drop  it,  Burnet?  It's  sure  to 
leak  out,  and  it's  going  to  do  the  freshmen  that  are 
in  it  a  lot  more  harm  than  good." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  Nichols  is  the  ring-leader,  and  because 
he's  the  kind  of  man  he  is." 

Burnet  still  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  asked  at 
length. 

71 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,  except  that  I'm  going  to 
have  Mac  down  here  according  to  agreement.  What 
happens  then  will  depend  on  Mac  and  Chanler  and 
whoever  else  they  choose  to  have  around.  I  imagine 
Mr.  Nichols  won't  indulge  in  any  more  rebellion 
right  away." 

Burnet  straightened  up  and  threw  back  his  head, 
as  if  he  had  come  to  a  decision. 

"  You  may  be  right  about  Nichols — I  hadn't 
thought  that  way,  but  I  can  see  why  you  do.  I'll 
tell  you  what  I'll  do.  If  you'll  drop  out  of  the 
thing  right  now,  I  will." 

"  Why  not  anyway?  I  oughtn't  to  make  any  dif- 
ference." 

"  Well,  Nichols  is  depending  on  me.  You're  on 
the  other  side,  so  if  we  both  drop  out  that 
evens  things  up.  Besides,  if  you  don't  do  any- 
thing, their  plan  won't  work,  the  way  they  have  it 
fixed  now,  and  they  may  give  up  the  whole 
thing." 

Bill  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  I  have  a  personal  interest  now.  I  want 
to  see  Freshman  Nichols  get  what  you  might  call 
a  much-needed  lesson — just  in  the  interests  of  hu- 
manity. Of  course  you  can  tell  them  about  me.  I 
suppose  you  will.  I  shan't  try  to  stop  you.  But, 
whether  you  do  or  not,  and  whether  this  affair  to- 
night comes  off  or  not,  I  think  Nichols  has  already 

72 


THE   OUTCOME 

got  himself  in  deep  enough  so  that  he'll  realize  it 
before  he's  through." 

Burnet  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  All  right,"  he  said.  "  I  guess  we'll  have  to 
let  it  go  at  that,"  and  he  left  the  room. 

He  went  straight  to  the  Dorms,  intending  to 
find  the  conspirators  and  show  them,  if  he  could, 
that  they,  perhaps,  were  not  following  the  way  of 
wisdom.  What  Bill  had  said  had  shown  him  a 
somewhat  different  point  of  view.  But  the  conspira- 
tors were  strangely  elusive.  Robertson  was  not  in 
his  room,  nor  was  Rowson,  nor  the  two  others. 
He  did  not  know  where  Nichols  roomed,  so  he  could 
not  look  there.  At  supper-time  he  gave  up  the 
search,  puzzled  and  wondering. 

He  would  have  wondered  still  more  if  he  could 
have  known  that  immediately  after  he  and  Bill  had 
left  the  Dorms  Nichols  had  got  the  other  four  to- 
gether again — he  looked  for  Bill,  too,  but  Bill  had 
disappeared — and  told  them  they  had  better  leave 
Burnet  out  of  all  further  plans.  His  reasons  were 
rather  vague.  It  seemed  that  he  had  discovered 
Burnet  could  not  be  wholly  trusted  or  something  like 
that,  and  he  urged  his  followers  to  keep  out  of 
Burnet's  way  till  the  whole  business  was  over.  They 
were  somewhat  mystified  at  this  sudden  change,  but 
the  time  was  short  and  it  was  not  difficult  to  do  as 
Nichols  wished.  They  spent  the  rest  of  the  after- 

73 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

noon  and  the  early  part  of  the  evening  in  Nichols's 
room  uptown. 

Bill,  after  Burnet  had  gone,  propped  himself 
up  on  his  couch  so  he  could  look  out  of  the  window, 
filled  his  pipe  again,  and  lay  there,  smoking  and 
gazing  off  at  the  western  hills.  He  expected  Butt 
or  Mac  would  drop  in  before  long  to  hear  his  re- 
port. 

Well,  he  had  found  out  what  they  wanted  to 
know,  and  it  had  been  fun  in  a  way.  But  the  whole 
thing  was  pretty  trivial,  he  reflected,  a  mean-spirited 
man  seeking  a  petty  revenge  in  a  cheap,  melodra- 
matic way.  It  seemed  more  like  an  episode  from 
one  of  the  Frank  Merriwell  tales  he  used  to  read  in 
his  boyhood  than  the  doings  of  real  people  in  a 
real  college.  He  was  almost  inclined  to  hunt  up 
Nichols  and  tell  him  he  was  a  fool,  and  that  the  only 
sensible  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to  swallow  his 
grievances  if  he  had  any,  and  let  bygones  alone. 
But  the  very  fact  that  Nichols,  being  the  spiritless 
kind  of  man  he  plainly  was,  should  have  the  audacity 
to  adopt  such  blood-and-thunder  methods,  was  a 
puzzle  that  had  interest  enough  to  make  Bill  decide 
to  let  things  take  their  own  course.  At  the  worst, 
it  was  just  a  waste  of  time. 

An  hour  passed,  and  it  was  after  five  o'clock. 
Neither  Butt  nor  McCarthy  had  shown  up  yet,  and 
feeling  a  desire  for  company,  Bill  scrawled  a  hurried 

74 


THE    OUTCOME 

note  on  his  desk  pad,  telling  where  he  had  gone,  and 
went  over  to  the  Kappa  Chi  house. 

Weird  sounds  from  within  assailed  his  ears  even 
before  he  reached  the  door,  and  he  entered  the 
parlor  to  find  Hawkins  and  Durham  seated  at  the 
piano,  engaged  in  executing  a  song  called,  "  Wait 
till  the  sun  shines,  Nelly."  Hawkins  knew  two  sets 
of  chords,  which  he  used  impartially  as  an  accom- 
paniment to  their  singing.  And  the  singing !  It  was 
plain  now  what  Colchester  had  been  led  to  expect 
from  Hawkins's  warning  that  Bill  was  about  as 
much  of  a  singer  as  Bull  Durham. 

Gray  lay  on  the  window  seat,  doubled  up  with 
laughing.  He  beckoned  Bill  to  come  over  beside 
him,  but  it  was  useless  to  try  to  speak  until  the  up- 
roar was  finished.  The  two  singers  kept  on,  heed- 
less of  everything  but  their  song,  and  ended  with  a 
burst  of  long-drawn-out  fervor: 

««  Wait  till  the  sun  shines,  Nelly, 
By-y  a-and   by-y.  " 

Hawkins  gave  a  final  thump  to  the  keys  and 
swung  around  on  the  piano  stool. 

"  Hello,  Old  Sleuth!  Pretty  good,  eh,  what?  " 
he  cried.  "  I  guess  the  Kappa  Chi  brethren  are  the 
original  songbirds  this  year,  all  right." 

Durham  grinned  placidly. 

75 


"  We're  going  out  for  the  Glee  Club,  too,"  he 
remarked. 

"  Sure  we  are.  I  guess  Bull  and  I  have  as  strong 
a  pull  with  Tod  Smith  as  you  and  Butt  Chanler 
have.  We  can  lick  him,  anyway." 

"  How  did  Chanler  come  out?  "  asked  Bill. 

"  Shucks,  Bill!  Call  him  '  Butt ' !  We'll  kick 
you  out  if  you  go  to  calling  us  by  our  last  names 
around  here." 

"  How  did  Butt  come  out,  then?  "  Bill  repeated, 
laughing. 

"  Oh,  they  told  him  he'd  get  a  second  trial  and 
it's  gone  to  his  head.  He's  been  up  in  Effie  Col- 
chester's room  for  the  last  half  hour,  torturing  that 
poor  mandolin  of  his.  He's  getting  ready  for  the 
Mandolin  Club  trials.  Between  his  playing  up  there 
and  our  singing  down  here  everybody  else  has  been 
driven  out  of  the  house  except  Tommy.  Tommy 
likes  it — he  think  it's  funny." 

"  Do  you  suppose  Butt  would  mind  if  I  inter- 
rupted him?  I  want  to  see  him  a  minute." 

"  Of  course  not:  come  on  up.  We'll  all  go  up. 
It's  time  he  had  an  interruption." 

And  upstairs  they  went.  From  the  front  room 
issued  the  strains  of  a  mandolin,  going  painstakingly 
over  and  over  what  sounded  like  a  pretty  difficult 
passage. 

"  That's  '  Silver  Heels  '  he's  working  on.  I 
76 


THE   OUTCOME 

thought  you'd  like  to  know,"  remarked  Hawkins, 
pausing  outside  the  door.  "  Wait  a  minute.  He'll 
get  to  the  chorus  after  a  while,  and  then  perhaps 
you'll  recognize  it." 

They  waited,  listening,  Durham  and  Hawkins 
close  to  the  door,  their  fists  raised  ready  to  pound 
upon  it. 

"Here  she  comes.  Ready!"  Hawkins  whis- 
pered, and  as  the  mandolin  swung  into  the  chorus 
they  lifted  up  their  voices  in  a  loud  chant,  pounding 
terrific  time  on  the  door-panel: 

««  Dum  dee  dee,  de-dum  dee  dee, 
Pretty  little  Silver  Heels, 
Dum  dee  dee,  de-dum  dee  dee, 
If  you  will  come  and  cook  my  meals." 

"  Oh-h !  "  screamed  Butt  from  within.  "  Come 
in  or  get  out,  but  for  Heaven's  sake  shut  up  that 
racket !  " 

"  A  gentleman  to  see  you,  Mr.  Chanler,"  an- 
nounced Hawkins,  opening  the  door  and  pushing  Bill 
forward.  "  Remember  your  manners." 

"Oh,  hello,  Bill!"  Butt,  flushed  from  his 
efforts,  put  down  the  mandolin  and  arose  from  his 
chair.  "  I  thought  those  wild  Indians  were  going 
to  smash  in  the  door.  I've  been  trying  to  work  up 
this  piece  for  the  Mandolin  Club  trials,  but  there's 
a  place  in  the  first  part  that  I  always  trip  up  on." 

77 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  Be  not  discouraged,  Buttle  dear.  Your  lucky 
star  is  with  you  this  day,"  said  Hawkins  solemnly. 
"  If  you  can  get  by  Tod  Smith  there  isn't  anything 
more  to  be  afraid  of." 

"Did  you  hear  about  that,  Bill?"  Butt  fairly 
beamed.  "  They're  going  to  give  me  a  second  trial 
on  the  Glee  Club!" 

"  Did  he  hear  about  that  ?  "  echoed  Hawkins 
and  Durham  in  unison.  "  Is  there  anybody  in 
college  that  hasn't  heard  about  it?"  added  Haw- 
kins. 

"  We're  going  to  have  an  announcement  made 
in  chapel  to-morrow  morning,"  said  Durham. 
"  '  Notice  is  hereby  given  that  the  college  is  relieved 
of  the  responsibility  of  furnishing  musical  clubs  this 
year,  the  brothers  of  the  Kappa  Chi  fraternity  hav- 
ing kindly  consented  to  supply  all  the  requisite  ma- 
terial.' Husky  and  I  are  going  to  help  you  and 
Bill  and  Effie  on  the  Glee  Club,  and  with  you  to  play 
4  Silver  Heels  '  and  Tommy  Gray  to  be  the  Banjo 
Club,  I  don't  see  where  there's  room  for  anybody 
else." 

"  Tommy  really  can  play:  he  was  on  the  Banjo 
Club  last  year,"  supplemented  Butt. 

"  '  Oh,  we  are  a  band  of  gay  music-i-ans,'  "  car- 
rolled  Hawkins,  seizing  the  mandolin  and  twanging 
upon  it. 

"Here!"     Butt  rescued  his  cherished  instru- 

78 


THE   OUTCOME 

ment  and  put  it  in  its  case.  "  Why  weren't  you 
down  at  football  practice  to-day?  That's  the  place 
to  work  off  your  exuberant  spirits." 

"Going  out  to-morrow,  aren't  we,  Bull?  It's 
too  much  to  expect  sophomores  to  go  to  football 
practice  when  they've  had  to  be  out  hazing  the  night 
before." 

"  Oh,  Bill !  "  cried  Butt,  remembering.  "  How 
about  Mac's  conspiracy?  Find  out  anything?" 

"  Yes.  There  is  one  all  right.  They're  going 
to  take  Mac  out  to-night  and  haze  him." 

"  Haze  him?  "  echoed  Hawkins.  "  Who?  That 
fellow  he  was  talking  about  this  morning?  Well, 
what  do  you  know  about  that?  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  it'll  come  out  now.  I  got 
in  on  the  plotting  and  everything  was  fixed  up  fine, 
but  Burnet  walked  in  on  us.  He's  one  of  the  plot- 
ters." 

"  Bunny?  I  thought  I  had  him  coralled  for  a 
solid  hour.  I  told  the  fellows  not  to  let  him  get 
away  no  matter  what  happened." 

"  He  got  away  though,  and  caught  me  red- 
handed." 

"Did  he  betr-ray  yuhf"  demanded  Hawkins 
in  a  melodramatic  whisper. 

"  He  was  just  going  to,  when  all  of  a  sudden 
Nichols  gave  a  whoop  and  knocked  over  a  pile  of 
books  and  broke  up  the  meeting.  I  haven't  seen  any 

79 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

of  them  since,  except  Burnet.  I  took  him  down  to 
the  room  and  tried  to  tell  him  that  wasn't  any  gang 
for  him  to  be  traveling  around  with.  But  he's  a 
stubborn  child.  I  suppose  he's  told  them  I'm  just  a 
spying  sophomore  by  this  time." 

"  Why  didn't  you  gag  him  and  lock  him  up?  " 

"  What  was  the  use  ?  I  don't  want  any  fuss  with 
Burnet,  and  besides,  Nichols  and  his  crowd  are 
willing  to  furnish  all  that  sort  of  thing  that's  neces- 
sary." 

"  What  are  they  going  to  do?  " 

"  Well,  Nichols  has  got  four  fellows  together — 
besides  Burnet.  One  of  'em,  Robertson,  isn't  a  bad 
sort  at  all,  but  the  other  three  are  the  limit.  Mac 
sized  up  Nichols  about  right.  He's  a  squealer.  I 
told  'em  Mac  was  planning  to  haze  me  last  night, 
but  I  got  away  from  him,  which  was  gospel  truth, 
and  that  probably  he'd  pay  me  a  visit  to-night.  Their 
scheme  is  to  be  waiting  outside  the  house  and  catch 
him  when  he  comes  out.  They  count  on  his  coming 
out  alone." 

"  Well,  he  won't !  "  cried  Hawkins. 

"  But  don't  you  see  they  won't  try  it  now?  They 
know  we're  on  to  it.  If  they  do  anything  at  all 
they'll  wait  till  they  think  we  don't  expect  it." 

"  Bull,  I  see  where  we  don't  go  out  for  football 
till  next  week!  "  said  Hawkins  solemnly.  "We've 
got  to  put  in  another  night  showing  freshmen  what's 

80 


THE   OUTCOME 

what,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  was  going  to  be 
a  strenuous  one." 

"  You  won't  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  put  in 
Butt.  "  If  Mac  hadn't  tried  that  stunt  last  night 
there  wouldn't  have  been  any  trouble  at  all." 

"Now  look  here,  Butt!  If  that  man  Nichols 
couldn't  find  trouble  he'd  make  it.  If  he  thinks 
he  can  try  any  of  his  sophomore-hazing  games  up 
here  and  get  away  with  it,  he's  got  another  think 
coming  to  him.  I'm  not  much  on  hazing  generally, 
but  here's  a  case  where  it's  necessary,  and  I'm  for 
giving  it  to  him  good  and  plenty." 

"  Calm  down,  Husky!  Listen  here  a  minute. 
You  know  Prexy  is  dead  against  hazing  anyway,  and 
if  anything  happened  to  give  him  an  excuse  he'd  put 
his  foot  down  on  it  in  a  minute.  I  think  he's  right 
about  it.  Oh,  I  know  what  you're  going  to  say! 
But  you  know  it's  a  nuisance  and  doesn't  do  any 
good  even  in  special  cases.  But  I  don't  want  our 
class  to  be  the  one  to  give  him  an  excuse.  So  far, 
he  hasn't  had  a  single  kick  coming  about  the  way 
we've  done  things,  and  I  don't  want  him  to  have. 
I'll  have  a  talk  with  Nichols  and  show  him  the  way 
he's  doing  is  silly  and  ridiculous,  and  if  he's  got  any 
sense  at  all  he'll  see  it.  But  we  won't  have  any 
more  night  parties." 

"  Far  be  it  from  me  to  rebel  against  the  presi- 
dent of  me  class,"  grumbled  Hawkins.  "  I  wish 

81 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

you  luck.  But  it's  my  humble  opinion  that  Freshman 
Nichols  needs  a  good  thrashing." 

"  Perhaps  he  does,  but  it  isn't  up  to  us  to  give 
it  to  him.  What  do  you  think,  Bill?  " 

"  Personally,  I'd  rather  like  to  see  him  get  the 
thrashing.  There's  something  about  him  that  I 
don't  like  at  all.  But  I  suppose  you're  right." 

"  There !  "  cried  Hawkins.  "  Bill's  hob-nobbed 
with  him  and  knows  him,  and  he's  for  the  corporal 
punishment.  I  think  I'll  go  along  with  you,  Butt, 
and  if  your  gentle  words  can't  do  anything  my  strong 
right  arm  may  come  in  handy." 

"  Here,  you  last  year's  freshmen !  I'd  like  to 
use  my  room  a  little  while,  if  you  don't  mind."  Col- 
chester stood  in  the  doorway  with  another  senior 
behind  him. 

"  Oh,  Effie,  you're  a  pig!  "  cried  Durham,  who 
had  fixed  himself  comfortably  on  the  window-seat. 
"  Can't  you  see  we're  using  it?  Butt's  having  a 
class  meeting." 

"  It  looks  that  way.  No,  I'm  sorry,  but  I'd 
really  like  to  have  a  little  class  meeting  of  my  own 
here  for  a  few  minutes.  Scoot!  Oh,  hello,  Bill!  " 
he  added,  noticing  Bill  for  the  first  time.  "  Here, 
I  want  you  to  meet  Mr.  Meredith,  the  president  of 
the  senior  class  and  probably  one  of  the  most  prom- 
inent, if  not  the  most  prominent,  men  in  college. 
Pardon  me,  Merry,  before  a  poifect  stranger,  but  I 

82 


THE   OUTCOME 

do  love  to  get  that  off.  Bill's  a  new  brother  of  ours 
from  out  west — and  Bill's  his  last  name,  not  his 
first." 

While  Bill  and  Meredith  were  shaking  hands 
Hawkins  sidled  up  to  Colchester  and  put  an  arm 
coaxingly  about  him. 

"  Please,  Effie,  can't  you  get  Bull  and  me  a 
place  on  the  Glee  Club,  too?  We  love  you  just  as 
much  as  Bill  does,  and  we'll  run  errands  for  you 
and  carry  your  suitcase  for  you,  and  lend  you  clean 
collars " 

"  That'll  be  about  enough  from  you  about  Glee 
Club,  my  boy!  Tod  Smith  nearly  didn't  give  Bill 
a  trial  on  the  strength  of  your  pleading.  Trot  along, 
now.  Merry  and  I  have  work  to  do  before  supper." 

"  It's  most  supper  time,  anyway,"  said  Butt, 
leading  the  way  into  the  hall.  "  We'll  have  just  time 
to  go  up  to  the  post  office  before  grub." 

On  the  way  uptown  Bill  was  on  the  lookout  for 
some  of  the  freshmen,  who  must  by  this  time  have 
been  informed  of  his  perfidy  by  Burnet,  and  after 
supper  he  and  Butt  strolled  up  to  the  Dorms  on 
the  same  quest.  They  were  looking  especially  for 
Nichols,  for  Butt  had  a  little  lecture  all  ready  for 
that  misguided  freshman,  and  later  on,  at  the  gather- 
ing that  is  held  in  College  Hall  on  the  first  Friday 
night  after  college  opens  to  introduce  the  various 
undergraduate  activities  to  the  new  men,  they  were 

83 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

as  fully  occupied  in  searching  the  audience  as  in 
listening  to  the  speakers.  Everyone  was  supposed 
to  attend  this  affair,  but  Burnet  seemed  to  be  the 
only  one  of  the  conspirators  present.  He  was  sitting 
well  down  toward  the  front  of  the  hall  and  they 
made  no  effort  to  get  close  to  him. 

Nichols,  as  we  know,  had  his  four  followers 
safely  in  his  room,  and  there  he  meant  to  keep  them 
till  time  for  action.  So  far  as  they  were  aware, 
everything  was  still  to  go  off  as  scheduled,  and  they 
intended  to  keep  well  out  of  the  way  of  stray  sopho- 
mores in  the  meantime.  Robertson,  to  be  sure, 
chafed  somewhat  under  these  precautions,  and  grum- 
bled at  missing  the  meeting  in  College  Hall,  but 
the  others  agreed  with  Nichols,  and  his  counsel  pre- 
vailed. 

At  nine  o'clock  they  sallied  forth,  and  by  a  round- 
about way  came  to  the  hedge  that  partially  enclosed 
Mrs.  Sleeper's  yard.  Beneath  this  they  could  lie 
completely  hidden,  while  a  street  lamp  some  thirty 
feet  away  made  a  circle  of  light  on  the  sidewalk 
which  gave  them  a  good  look  at  everyone  coming 
from  the  direction  of  the  college.  There  they  waited, 
starting  up  eagerly  at  every  sound  of  approaching 
footsteps. 

Bill's  was  the  first  familiar  form  to  appear  in  the 
flare  of  the  street  lamp — but  he  was  not  alone.  His 
companion  turned  out  to  be  Chanler.  They  won- 

84 


THE   OUTCOME 

dered  and  whispered  about  it  when  the  two  had 
passed  into  the  house. 

Burnet  came  next,  hurrying,  almost  running,  and 
they  could  hear  him  muttering  with  impatience  be- 
cause he  found  the  door  locked  and  had  to  wait  for 
some  one  to  come  and  let  him  in.  Nichols  crouched 
farther  into  the  hedge  shadows,  uttering  a  low 
"  S-sh !  "  of  warning  and  command.  When  Burnet 
was  finally  admitted,  he  raised  his  head  cautiously. 

"  Listen!  "  he  whispered.  "  Can  you  hear  me? 
When  McCarthy  comes  we  must  get  him  before  he 
goes  in.  We  won't  wait  till  he  comes  out." 

"  Why?  "  demanded  Rowson. 

"  Don't  speak  so  loud!  " 

"  But  we  want  Bill  and  Burnet  to  help  us !  " 

"  Keep  still,  will  you?  "  growled  Robertson.  "  If 
the  five  of  us  can't  take  care  of  him  we'd  better  sell 
out.  Don't  you  know  Chanler's  there,  too?" 

"S-sh!  Some  one's  coming!"  They  listened 
tensely,  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  point  where  the  on- 
comer  would  first  enter  the  circle  of  light.  "  It's 
him.  Get  ready!  " 

McCarthy  it  was,  fresh  from  a  nap  that  had 
lasted  a  good  deal  longer  than  he  had  intended.  His 
alarm  clock,  set  for  six,  had  failed  to  awake  him, 
and  he  might  have  slept  on  till  morning  if  his  room- 
mate had  not  roused  him  to  demand  the  where- 
abouts of  a  missing  sweater.  He  came  walking 

7  85 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

briskly  along,  whistling  shrilly,  and  turned  in  at 
Mrs.  Sleeper's  front  walk.  His  foot  was  just  raised 
to  mount  the  first  step  when  a  figure  appeared  at 
each  side  of  him,  each  grasping  an  arm.  He  turned 
sharply,  but  the  hands  held  tight. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  he  cried  angrily. 

"  We  want  you,"  came  the  short  answer. 

"Oh,  it's  you,  Nichols,  is  it?  So  this  is  your 
scheme!  Well,  what  about  it?" 

"  You  might  as  well  come  along." 

"Huh!"  McCarthy  laughed  grimly,  tried  in 
vain  to  wrench  himself  free,  and  suddenly  relaxed, 
making  himself  a  dead  weight  on  their  hands.  "  If 
you're  counting  on  getting  me  anywhere  you'll  have 
to  carry  me." 

'We  can  do  it!"  and  McCarthy  saw  other 
quick-moving  figures  approach  from  out  of  the 
shadows.  He  could  not  count  them,  but  he  knew 
he  was  outnumbered.  With  a  quick  movement  he 
straightened  up  and  shouted :  "  Bill  !  Bill  !  Bill  !  " 
Then  an  arm  was  thrown  about  his  head,  shutting 
off  his  cries. 

Upstairs,  Bill  and  Butt  were  quietly  chatting 
and  smoking  when  Burnet  suddenly  burst  in  upon 
them. 

"Hello,  Bunny!"  exclaimed  Butt,  looking  at 
the  flushed  freshman  in  surprise.  "  Isn't  this  pretty, 

86 


THE    OUTCOME 

late  for  a  freshman  to  be  out  alone  and  un- 
protected? " 

"Has  McCarthy  been  here  yet?"  demanded 
Burnet. 

"No.    What's  the  trouble?" 

Burnet  sat  down  and  mopped  his  forehead  witK 
his  handkerchief. 

"  Nothing,  now.  Only  I've  been  thinking  over 
this  thing,  and  the  more  I  think,  the  foolisher  it 
seems.  I  tried  to  find  the  other  fellows  and  tell 
them  it  was  nothing  to  do  at  all,  but  they  haven't 
been  in  their  rooms  and  they  weren't  at  the  meeting 
to-night,  and  somehow  everything  seemed  so  mud- 
dled up  that  I  got  afraid  you  might  not  have  seen 
McCarthy  and  you  might  not  be  here  when  he  came 
down,  and  then  the  whole  thing  would  go  through 
just  as  they  planned  it." 

"  Then  you  haven't  had  a  chance  to  betray  me 
yet?  "  asked  Bill  with  a  smile. 

"  No :  I  haven't  seen  any  of  them  since  they 
rushed  out  of  Robertson's  room  this  afternoon." 

"  It  looks  as  though  Nichols  didn't  want  your 
thrilling  news.  They're  probably  hiding  somewhere 
outside  now,  but  I  don't  think  they'll  do  much  to- 
night. I  didn't  see  Mac." 

"  You  didn't?  "  Burnet  started  from  his  chair. 
"Then  they'll  get  him!" 

"  How  can  they?  "  Bill  struck  a  match  and 
8? 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

held  it  poised  between  his  fingers.  "  I  was  going 
to  deliver  him  into  their  hands,  but  I  didn't  get  a 

chance  to  invite  him  down.    It's  possible "     He 

paused  to  apply  the  match  to  his  pipe,  but  stopped 
short  in  the  middle  of  the  first  puff.  From  the 
front  of  the  house  came  suddenly  Mac's  thrice  re- 
peated cry.  "By  golly!  They  have!  Here — 
you  can't  see  the  street  from  that  window — the  tree's 
in  the  way.  Hurry  up !  "  and  he  dashed  out  the 
door  and  down  the  stairs.  "  Oh,  thunder!  "  he  cried 
in  exasperation.  The  hall  light  had  been  put  out, 
and  in  the  dark  he  fumbled  in  vain  at  the  combina- 
tion of  chain-bolt,  ordinary  bolt  and  key  with  which 
Mrs.  Sleeper  safeguarded  the  entrance  to  her  house 
at  night.  Butt  and  Burnet  were  already  at  his 
back,  urging  him  to  hurry.  "  Light  a  match,  for 
Heaven's  sake !  " 

A  light  appeared  at  the  other  end  of  the 
hall,  and  Mrs.  Sleeper  came  pattering  barefooted 
toward  them,  a  strange  apparation  in  curl-papers, 
wrapped  in  a  quilt  and  bearing  a  lamp  aloft  in  her 
hand. 

"Mr.  Bill!  What's  the  matter?  Dear  me, 
what's  the  matter?  " 

"  Oh,  won't  you  unlock  this  confounded  thing, 
please?  I  can't  make  head  nor  tail  of  it!  " 

"  But  what's  the  matter?  I  heard  some  one  yell- 
in'  bloody  murder,  and " 

88 


'Freshman  hazbt1  ?     I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  ! '  ' 


THE    OUTCOME 

"  Please  won't  you  open  the  door?  "  interrupted 
Butt. 

Mrs.  Sleeper  drew  herself  up  very  straight,  look- 
ing down  at  Butt  with  kindling  eyes.  Then  she 
deliberately  placed  the  lamp  on  the  hall  table  and 
took  her  stand  beside  it,  drawing  the  quilt  more 
closely  about  her  and  folding  her  arms  resolutely. 

"  Mr.  Bill!  Mr.  Bill  I"  she  repeated,  for  Bill 
was  busy  with  the  door  and  paid  no  attention  to  her 
first  call.  He  turned  impatiently.  "  If  there's  one 
thing  I  pride  myself  on,  it's  treatin'  my  boarders 
right,"  she  declared  impressively.  "  Land  knows, 
I  don't  have  to  take  in  boarders,  and  I  ain't  never 
done  it  since  Mr.  Sleeper  passed  away.  But  now 
that  I  have  taken  you  in,  I  mean  to  do  as  well  by 
you  as  I  know  how.  I  want  any  boarder  of  mine 

should  have  as  nice  a  time  as  anybody.  But " 

She  paused,  picked  up  her  lamp  again  as  she  neared 
her  climax,  and  drew  herself  up  a  little  straighten 
Bill,  held  by  her  stern  eye,  sighed  resignedly,  though 
his  hand  itched  to  get  at  the  door  again.  He 
had  got  it  nearly  unlocked.  "  But,"  she  repeated, 
"  I'm  not  going  to  put  up  with  people  comin'  in 
here  to  see  you  and  then  interruptin'  and  insultin' 
me  I" 

11  Oh,  Mrs.  Sleeper,  I  didn't  think  of  insulting 
you!  "  protested  Butt.  "  I  didn't  mean  to  interrupt 
you,  but  we're  in  such  an  awful  hurry — that  was 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

one  of  our  friends  yelling.    Some  freshmen  have  got 
him,  and  they're  going  to  haze  him." 

"  Freshmen  hazin'f  I  never  heard  of  such  a 
thing!  "  she  cried  incredulously. 

"  But  they  are !  They're  a  mean  lot  and  they 
may  hurt  him." 

"  Did  you  ever!  I  always  said  this  hazin'  had 
ought  to  be  put  a  stop  to.  Here,  let  me  get  at  that 
door!  "  With  swift  fingers  she  undid  the  lock,  her 
wrath  all  forgotten.  "  I  hope  you  get  'em  and 
trounce 'em  good.  Poor  boy!  If " 

But  they  were  gone,  leaving  her  with  her  sen- 
tence unfinished. 

In  vain  they  looked  up  and  down  the  street  and 
searched  around  the  house.  The  delay  had  been 
enough  and  McCarthy  and  his  captors  had  disap- 
peared completely. 

The  three  stopped  under  the  street  lamp,  look- 
ing undecidedly  at  one  another. 

"  They  can't  have  gone  far,"  said  Bill.  "  They 
probably  had  to  carry  him." 

"  Here's  a  chance  to  do  some  sleuthing,"  sug- 
gested Butt. 

"  P-sh!  What  can  I  do — at  night?  That  was 
just  showing  off  this  morning.  I  wish  I  could, 
though." 

"  Don't  you  know  where  they  were  going  to 
take  him?" 

90 


THE   OUTCOME 

"  No !  I  didn't  suppose  they'd  get  him,  so  I 
didn't  try  to  find  out.  Don't  you  know,  Burnet?  " 

"  No :  they  talked  a  lot  of  stuff  about  teaching 
him  a  lesson,  but  I  didn't  pay  much  attention  to  all 
that.  I  thought  they'd  really  get  down  to  business 
this  afternoon." 

"  Well "  Butt  started  to  move  along.  "  We 

ought  to  be  doing  something,  but  what  in  thunder 
can  we  do?  " 

"  Maybe  they  weren't  all  there,"  suggested  Bur- 
net.  "  I  tell  you.  I'll  go  up  to  the  Dorms  and  see 
if  one  of  'em  isn't  there,  and  find  out  where  the  rest 
were  going." 

"  We'll  go  along  with  you,"  said  Butt. 

But  none  of  those  they  were  looking  for  was 
to  be  found  in  the  Dorms.  Many  of  the  freshmen 
had  gone  to  bed.  It  was  understood  by  both  classes 
that  hazing  was  to  be  generally  cut  out  after  the 
first  night — and  only  in  one  room  did  they  come 
upon  any  sophomores. 

"  Had  I  better  tell  them?  "  asked  Butt  as  they 
stood  in  the  doorway.  "  They  might  help  us 
hunt." 

"  I  wouldn't.  They  probably  couldn't  do  any 
more  than  we  can  alone,  and  I  don't  imagine  Mac 
would  be  crazy  about  having  any  more  people  know 
about  it  than  have  to." 

"  All  right."     Butt  closed  the  door  again.     "  I 


guess  you'd  better  go  to  bed,  Bunny.     There  isn't 
anything  you  can  do." 

"  I'd  like  to  help,"  said  Burnet  in  a  troubled 
voice.  "  You  know  I  sort  of  feel  partly  to  blame 
for  this.  I  was  going  in  on  it,  too." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right.  I'd  get  some  sleep  if  I 
were  you.  You'll  have  a  good  deal  to  do  to-morrow, 
with  the  flag-rush  and  things." 

So  Burnet  said  good  night  and  left  them. 

"  Can  you  think  of  anything?  "  asked  Butt  when 
he  had  gone. 

"  Nothing  that'll  help  Mac.  I'm  going  to  wait 
up  in  Robertson's  room  till  he  gets  back." 

"  All  right.  If  we  can't  do  anything  else,  we 
can  at  least  send  him  to  bed  with  something  to  think 
about." 

They  did  not  light  up  in  Robertson's  room,  but 
sat  there  in  the  dark.  They  expected  a  rather  long 
wait — it  was  only  a  little  after  ten  o'clock — and 
Butt  curled  himself  up  in  a  big  Morris  chair  to  get  a 
short  nap.  But  he  had  hardly  begun  to  doze  when 
Robertson  came  in.  They  did  not  speak,  and  he 
had  lighted  his  desk  lamp  before  he  saw  that  they 
were  there. 

"  Back  early,  aren't  you?  "  Bill  remarked,  rising 
and  going  over  to  the  door,  where  he  stood  with  his 
back  against  it,  ready  to  prevent  any  attempt  of 
Robertson's  to  leave  the  room. 

92 


THE   OUTCOME 

Robertson  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  puzzled 
to  find  Bill  there  with  a  sophomore. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here?  "  he  asked. 

"  Just  waiting  for  you.  We  want  to  hear  about 
it." 

Robertson  gave  a  hitch  to  his  shoulder,  which 
was  his  way  of  shrugging.  "  I've  washed  my  hands 
of  it,"  he  said  shortly. 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  don't  like  it.  There's  something 
queer  about  that  man  Nichols.  You  know  the  way 
he  ran  out  of  the  room  this  afternoon?  Then  he 
suddenly  took  a  notion  not  to  have  anything  more 
to  do  with  Burnet — he  had  us  up  in  his  room  all  the 
evening  so  Burnet  couldn't  find  us — and  Burnet  was 
the  best  fellow  in  the  bunch.  The  rest  aren't  any 
good." 

"  What  did  you  get  mixed  up  in  it  for,  then?  " 

"  Well,  McCarthy  was  disagreeable,  and  it  was 
the  principle  of  the  thing.  But  they  weren't  think- 
ing anything  about  principle;  they  were  just  sore, 
and  they  wanted  somebody  to  get  back  at.  They 
thought  it  was  smart,  too." 

"Where  are  they  now?" 

"  Down  back  of  the  old  Gym.  But  what's  the 
matter  with  you?  You  were  as  strong  for  it  as 
anybody  this  afternoon." 

Bill  gave  a  little  dry  cough. 

93 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

"  I  wasn't  really.  I  was  just  nosing  around  to 
find  out  what  was  doing.  To  tell  the  truth,  I — I 
don't  happen  to  be  a  freshman.  I'm  a  sophomore." 

Robertson  stared. 

"You  lied,  then!" 

"  Perhaps  so.  But  I  didn't  say  I  was  a  fresh- 
man. I  just  tried  to  act  like  one." 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  anyhow.  I  suppose  you'll 
have  it  in  for  me  now  " — he  half  turned  to  Butt — 
"  but  I  don't  care  much  about  that  either.  I'm 
sick  of  this  scrapping  and  fooling  around.  That 
isn't  what  I  came  to  college  for.  But  I  don't  envy 
Nichols  much  when  McCarthy  gets  a  chance  at 
him." 

"  What  have  they  been  doing  to  him?  " 

"  Jawing  and  pounding  him.  They  don't  dare 
let  him  up.  They've  got  him  tied." 

".Come  on,  Bill!  "  cried  Butt. 

They  ran  all  the  way  to  the  old  Gym,  Butt  in 
the  lead,  and  as  they  rounded  the  corner  they  caught 
a  glimpse  of  fleeing  figures  disappearing  around  the 
other  side.  By  the  big  electric  light  that  illumined 
that  end  of  the  campus  they  could  see  another  figure 
lying  on  the  ground  and  some  one  standing  over  him. 
It  was  Nichols. 

"  Why  didn't  you  run,  too?  "  panted  Butt,  scorn- 
fully, running  up  to  him. 

Nichols  started  slightly,  and  then  grinned. 
94 


THE    OUTCOME 

"  Why  should  I  ?  "  he  said  jauntily.  "  You  can't 
do  anything  to  me — not  even  if  you  get  the  whole 
class  to  back  you  up." 

"  I  guess  we  can,  and  we  won't  need  the  whole 
class  to  help  either."  Butt  and  Bill  leaned  over 
and  began  to  unfasten  the  ropes  that  tied  McCarthy. 

"  No,  you  can't,"  Nichols  laughed,  as  if  it  were 
the  best  of  jokes —  "  Do  you  know  why?  Because 
I  happen  to  be  a  sophomore,  too !  " 

Butt  whirled  around  on  him. 

"  What  ?    You— you "    Words  failed  him. 

"  Yes,  I  am.  You  can  look  it  up  on  the  regis- 
trar's list  if  you  don't  believe  it.  Burnet  knows.  He 
tried  to  tell,  but  I  wasn't  ready  to  have  people  know 
yet." 

"Then  what — what  are  you  doing  this  for?" 

"  For  the  fun  of  it — and  I've  had  fun,  too.  You 
fellows  are  so  smart  here,  you  think  anybody  can't 
be  new  without  being  a  freshman !  This  man  " — 
indicating  McCarthy  with  his  foot — "  thought  he 
knew  it  all.  He  thought  he'd  have  some  fun  with 
me !  But  I  guess  he's  got  his !  " 

Butt  looked  at  him  contemptuously. 

"  I  certainly  am  proud  to  have  you  in  my  class !  " 
he  said  witheringly. 

McCarthy  had  succeeded  in  getting  free  of  his 
bonds  and  standing  up,  though  his  mouth  was  still 
gagged.  With  an  inarticulate  roar  he  rushed  at 

95 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

Nichols,  striking  him  a  straight-armed  blow  on  the 
chin  that  laid  him  flat. 

"  There !  "  he  panted,  flinging  off  the  gag.  "  Get 
up,  and  I'll  give  you  another!  " 

"  Here,  Mac!  "  cried  Bill,  seizing  his  arm. 

"Let  go  of  me!"  McCarthy  shook  himself 
free  and  stood  waiting  with  fists  clenched.  But 
Nichols  did  not  get  up. 

Butt  knelt  down  beside  him. 

"  He  isn't  hurt,"  he  said.  "  But  let  him  alone. 
Fighting  won't  do  any  good.  Look  here,  Nichols! 
Are  you  listening?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Nichols  in  a  muffled  voice. 

"  You're  a  pretty  big  fool,  but  you'll  be  a  bigger 
one  if  you  tell  anybody  about  this.  I  want  a  talk 
with  you  some  time,  but  now  you'd  better  get  up  and 
go  home." 

He  got  up,  but  Nichols  made  no  move  to  rise. 

"Oh,  leave  him  there!"  said  McCarthy  dis- 
gustedly, turning  away. 

"  Understand?  "  demanded  Butt. 

But  Nichols  made  no  answer,  and  they  left  him; 
there. 


CHAPTER   V 

A  RURAL  ADVENTURE 

STRANGELY    enough,    all   these    happenings 
failed  to  leak  out  for  some  little  time.     Mc- 
Carthy did  not  want  people  to  know  of  them, 
for  very  good  reasons,  and  the  other  sophomores 
kept  silent  for  his  sake;  Nichols  still  had  enough 
influence   among   those   freshmen   who   would   have 
been  likely  to  tell  to  seal  their  lips   for  the  time 
being. 

So  Nichols  appeared  the  next  morning  in  the 
sophomore  seats  in  chapel,  without  being  noticed 
particularly.  He  was  a  new  man,  that  was  all,  and 
the  fact  that  very  few  people  knew  of  his  brief 
masquerading  as  a  freshman  enabled  him  to  slip 
into  his  proper  place  without  exciting  any  question. 
He  appeared  in  the  sophomore  ranks  in  the  flag- 
rush,  and  even  fought  as  valiantly  as  a  not  over- 
courageous  man  may,  hoping  thereby  to  retrieve 
himself  in  the  eyes  of  his  class  president.  For  Butt's 
words,  even  more  than  McCarthy's  blow,  had  set 
him  to  thinking  that  his  little  joke  had  been  undiplo- 

97 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

matic,  to  put  it  mildly,  and  he  was  anxious  to  make 
up  for  it. 

As  far  as  Butt  was  concerned,  however,  he  ap- 
parently did  not  exist,  and  Nichols  had  an  uncom- 
fortable feeling  that  there  was  a  general  conspiracy 
among  his  new  classmates  to  ignore  him  altogether. 
But  in  so  thinking  he  was  rather  exaggerating  his 
own  importance,  for  with  the  exception  of  the  Kappa 
Chi  fellows  and  McCarthy,  he  was  simply  some  one 
whom  no  one  knew  yet. 

Bill,  however,  was  already  known  throughout 
the  class,  and  for  a  very  similar  reason  to  the  one 
that  kept  Nichols  unknown — that  he  had  played 
freshman  for  a  little  time.  But  there  was  a  differ- 
ence, for  the  tale  of  his  foolery  could  be  told  with- 
out embarrassment  to  any  one,  and  Hawkins  was  as 
ready  as  the  next  man  to  laugh  at  the  part  that  was 
considered  a  good  joke  on  him. 

Besides,  Bill  had  the  advantage  of  being  intro- 
duced into  the  class  life  by  Butt  Chanler,  which 
meant  a  good  deal  in  the  class  of  Noughty-Even, 
and  his  little  efforts  at  sleuthing,  which  Hawkins 
magnified  into  something  quite  wonderful  in  his  re- 
peated tellings  of  them,  gave  him  an  individuality  and 
a  nickname,  which  also  tends  to  help  one  in  get- 
ting known.  "  Old  Slouch  "  was  what  they  called 
him,  and  he  got  the  reputation  of  sleeping  with  a 
copy  of  Sherlock  Holmes  under  his  pillow,  which 

98 


A    RURAL   ADVENTURE 

was  nonsense,  but  made  him  pointed  out  as  a  char- 
acter. Fellows  even  brought  harmless  little  mysteries 
for  him  to  solve,  which  he  did,  with  the  superior 
air  of  the  typical  book  hero,  and  by  refusing  to  tell 
how  he  did  it,  which  was  by  simply  using  common 
sense,  he  got  a  reputation  for  being  very  clever 
indeed. 

"  You're  an  awful  bluffer,  Bill,"  Butt  told  him 
one  day.  "  Aren't  you  ashamed  sometimes  to  string 
these  innocents  so  ?  " 

"  They  like  it,"  Bill  answered  seriously.  "  You'll 
notice  it's  only  the  innocents  that  take  any  stock  in 
it,  and  it  would  spoil  all  the  fun  for  them  if  I  told 
them  how  I  did  it.  Besides,  I  couldn't  tell  them  it's 
just  using  common  sense.  They'd  see  then  that 
they  haven't  any,  and  they  wouldn't  like  that. 
They're  the  kind  of  people  one  Mr.  Barnum  called 
suckers,  and  being  fooled  is  the  biggest  fun  they 
have." 

Which  proves  that  in  his  youthful  way  Bill  was 
a  practical  philosopher. 

All  this,  however,  was  merely  incidental.  Bill 
was  starting  in  this  new  year  determined  to  wipe 
out  the  unfortunate  impression  his  freshman  year 
had  made  on  his  father,  and  that  meant  that  he 
had  real  work  to  do.  He  was  bright  enough,  and 
when  he  set  out  to  do  good  work  he  could  do  it. 
But  the  old  habits  were  hard  to  get  away  from,  and 

99 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

many  an  evening  when  he  sat  doggedly  at  his  desk 
it  would  have  taken  very  little  to  make  him  heave 
his  books  into  a  corner  and  throw  up  the  whole  thing. 
Then  came  in  the  mutual  disciplining  which  the 
Kappa  Chi  sophomores  had  reduced  to  such  a  sys- 
tem, for  when  Bill  sometimes  did  heave  the  books 
into  the  corner  and  went  to  the  house  in  search  of 
some  one  to  loaf  or  frolic  with,  they  would  tell  him 
to  go  about  his  business,  really  meaning  it.  All 
of  which  made  Bill  sore  for  the  time  being,  and  he 
would  go  away  in  a  state  of  righteous  wrath,  calling 
them  a  set  of  greasy  grinds,  who  took  it  upon  them- 
selves to  manage  what  was  no  concern  of  theirs  at 
all.  But  these  fits  of  wrath  always  passed,  and  he 
came  at  length  to  admit  that  this  high-handed  prac- 
tice, unusual  as  it  was,  was  at  the  same  time  rather 
a  good  thing.  At  any  rate,  he  ceased  to  struggle 
against  it  and  did  not  carry  out  his  threat  of  seeking 
companions  that  weren't  so  fussy,  with  the  result 
that  his  father  began  to  believe  again  that  his  eldest 
son  might  turn  out  to  be  something  besides  a  scat- 
terbrain  after  all. 

But  Bill's  studying  and  getting  his  lessons, 
though  a  very  excellent  thing,  is  not  the  point  of 
this  story,  and  it  is  alluded  to  merely  to  indicate 
that  such  things  were  daily  features  of  his  life — 
something  that  the  reader  might  not  be  blamed  for 
forgetting  at  times. 

100 


A    RURAL   ADVENTURE 

His  first  weeks  in  Tresham  were  filled  princi- 
pally with  getting  acquainted.  His  acquaintances 
were  many.  They  extended  pretty  generally  through 
his  own  class,  with  occasional  incursions  among  the 
freshmen  and  juniors,  and  even  among  the  seniors 
in  his  own  house.  But  not  so  many  of  them  ripened 
into  friendship,  for  in  spite  of  all  of  his  ready  min- 
gling with  whatever  people  he  was  thrown  with,  Bill 
was  not  a  fellow  to  rush  into  a  great  number  of 
intimacies.  Outside  the  men  in  the  house,  Mc- 
Carthy was  almost  the  only  one  in  his  own  class 
for  whom  he  grew  to  care  especially,  and  Mac  was 
a  person  of  erratic  ways,  who  came  often  and  stayed 
away  long,  according  to  a  fashion  all  his  own,  and 
Bill  could  not  have  claimed  him  as  a  special  crony. 
Among  the  juniors  the  ones  he  knew  best  were  Don- 
nel  and  Crane,  two  fellows  who  were  neither  of 
them  notable  in  any  particular  way,  but  just  lika- 
ble. Perhaps  the  chief  thing  he  liked  about  Crane 
was  the  genial  way  in  which  he  poked  fun  at  the 
detective  stunts,  for  he  appreciated  just  how  much 
of  them  were  pure  bluff.  But  while  he  was  laughing 
at  them,  he  took  delight  in  adding  touches  that  made 
Bill's  solutions  more  mysterious  than  ever,  and  many 
a  gullible  "  innocent  "  was  convinced  that  Bill  was 
a  veritable  wonder  merely  by  the  half  serious  mud- 
dles that  Crane  led  them  into.  And  he  was  the  one 
who  christened  Bill  "  Old  Slouch." 

8  101 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

Bill  had  taken  a  fancy  to  Burnet,  too,  from  the 
night  when  he  hazed  him,  but  he  found  that  for 
the  present  to  be  intimate  with  a  freshman  was  not 
considered  the  proper  thing.  Burnet  had  a  period 
of  probation  to  go  through,  as  a  prospective  mem- 
ber of  the  Kappa  Chi  fraternity,  and  it  was  the 
policy  of  the  brothers  to  ignore  him  when  they 
were  not  impressing  him  with  the  fact  that  he  was 
nothing  but  an  insignificant  freshman,  and  until  this 
was  over  and  he  was  finally  initiated  Bill  had  to  do 
likewise. 

Chanler,  Gray,  Hawkins,  and  Durham  were  the 
four  whom  he  saw  the  most  and  who  became  his 
closest  friends.  He  found  that  on  the  whole  they 
were  as  good  fellows  as  he  had  ever  known.  Chan- 
ler's  one  fault  was  that  he  had  got  the  habit  of 
leadership,  and  whatever  came  along  he  was  inclined 
to  take  hold  of  it  and  run  it  to  suit  himself.  But 
that  was  not  such  a  bad  fault  after  all,  for  Butt 
was  a  good  leader,  and  he  was  not  objectionable 
about  it. 

Gray  was  preeminently  a  follower,  quiet,  un- 
original, and  altogether  a  very  comfortable  person 
to  have  around.  Hawkins  and  Durham,  whom  Bill 
did  not  see  quite  so  much  of  now  because  they  were 
giving  about  all  of  their  spare  time  to  the  football 
team,  gave  the  impression  of  being  just  the  opposite. 
Each  in  his  own  way,  they  seemed  to  be  about  as 

102 


A    RURAL   ADVENTURE 

independent  as  possible — Hawkins  with  a  good  deal 
of  noise  and  bluster,  and  Durham  in  a  good-natured, 
easy-going  fashion  that  nevertheless  seemed  just  as 
immovable.  But  Bill  came  to  see  that  when  it  got 
right  down  to  business  Butt  managed  them  just  as 
effectively  as  he  did  Gray,  which  made  Bill  smile 
to  himself,  for  either  one  of  them  could  have  taken 
Butt  and  tossed  him  out  the  window  without  even 
exerting  himself. 

So,  among  these  people,  the  days  of  early  autumn 
passed,  and  Bill  found  that  he  was  really  glad  his 
father  had  sent  him  east,  to  Tresham. 

Then  came  a  holiday,  which  is  known  at  Tres- 
ham as  Mountain  Day,  when  the  Kappa  Chi 
brethren  called  a  truce  with  the  freshmen  they  were 
preparing  to  initiate  and  took  them  on  an  outing. 
They  chartered  three  huge  carryalls,  packed  away 
a  good-sized  luncheon,  and  set  out  for  a  day  in  the 
country — most  of  them. 

Hawkins  and  Durham  did  not  go.  They  had 
football  practice,  and  they  planned  to  leave  late  in 
the  afternoon  and  join  the  rest  in  time  for  supper. 
Colchester  did  not  go  because  he  wanted  to  sleep  late 
that  morning, — nor  Burnet,  because  his  father  was 
going  to  pass  through  town  that  morning  and  it 
was  necessary  that  he  see  him. 

And  Bill  did  not  go,  because  a  certain  essay  in 
history  that  he  had  vowed  to  get  off  his  hands  was 

103 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

still  unfinished,  and  he  heroically  made  up  his  mind 
that  he  would  not  make  merry  a  single  minute  till 
it  was  done.  This  was  not  a  particular  sacrifice 
under  the  present  circumstances,  because  he  could 
easily  get  it  out  of  the  way  by  working  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  it  was  planned  that  he,  Colchester,  and 
Burnet  should  get  a  smaller  rig  early  in  the  after- 
noon and  join  the  crowd  just  outside  the  little  old 
town  of  Greenmeadow.  That  would  be  quite  as 
much  fun  as  going  with  the  early  starters,  and  would 
get  them  there  in  time  for  the  best  of  the  doings. 

Just  after  lunch  they  started,  with  Hawkins 
and  Durham  waving  an  elaborate  farewell  to  them 
from  the  porch. 

"  You'd  better  keep  watch  of  the  guide-posts  and 
ask  your  way  every  little  while,"  advised  Hawkins 
as  Colchester  picked  up  the  reins  to  drive  off.  "  Ef- 
fie  has  the  record  for  getting  lost  around  here,  and 
if  you  don't  look  out  he'll  land  you  in  some  God- 
forsaken place  that  nobody  ever  heard  of." 

"  By-by,  children,"  said  Colchester  serenely. 
"  We'll  be  waiting  for  you  at  dinner  time  if  you 
don't  miss  the  train.  I've  been  this  way  at  least 
three  times,"  he  added,  to  allay  any  doubts  his  com- 
panions may  have  had.  "  That  joke  of  theirs  is  a 
chestnut." 

They  had  no  doubts,  however,  and  felt  quite 
confident  that  Effie  would  get  them  there  without 

104 


A    RURAL  ADVENTURE 

any  trouble  at  all.  It  was  a  perfect  day,  and  they 
did  not  much  care  whether  they  got  anywhere  or 
not  so  long  as  they  kept  on  going.  This  country 
was  all  new  to  Bill,  and  this  particular  part  of  it 
to  Burnet,  and  they  were  full  of  content  just  to  amble 
leisurely  along,  talking  when  they  felt  like  it,  now 
and  then  breaking  into  song,  and  sometimes  simply 
driving  on  in  silence.  Bill  had  the  virtuous  feeling 
of  one  who  has  done  his  duty,  and  Burnet,  on  top 
of  a  successful  plea  to  his  father  regarding  a  mat- 
ter of  great  importance — his  monthly  allowance — 
was  enjoying  to  the  full  the  novel  experience  of  not 
being  treated  like  the  scum  of  the  earth  by  upper- 
classmen.  Burnet  was  not  particularly  strong  for 
Kappa  Chi's  ante-initiation  discipline. 

"  I  guess  we'd  better  take  this  road  to  the  left," 
said  Colchester  after  a  time,  bringing  the  horse  to 
a  stop  at  a  cross-roads.  "  We'll  get  a  dandy  view 
of  the  river  this  way."  So  they  took  the  road  to 
the  left. 

The  view  was  well  worth  while,  and  they  rolled 
along  for  another  two  hours  before  Colchester  began 
to  show  signs  of  uneasiness.  He  had  been  feeling 
uneasy  for  some  time  before  he  showed  the  signs  of 
it,  but  finally  he  had  to  come  to  a  halt  and  admit  that 
he  didn't  know  exactly  where  he  was. 

"  I've  been  here  before — I  know  that,"  he  said, 
searching  the  landscape  for  something  that  would 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

guide  him.  "  But  I  don't  believe  it's  the  way  to 
Greenmeadow." 

"  There's  a  man  over  in  that  orchard,"  said  Bur- 
net.  "  We  might  ask  him." 

"  Excellent  idea,"  cried  Colchester,  and  he  was 
about  to  suggest  that  Burnet  do  the  asking,  but  the 
freshman  forestalled  him  by  jumping  out  of  the 
carriage  and  hurrying  across  the  field. 

The  man  in  the  orchard  informed  them  that 
they  were  headed  some  miles  to  the  east  of  Green- 
meadow  and  were  so  far  out  of  their  way  that  they 
could  not  hope  to  get  there  before  dark.  Yorkville 
was  the  next  town  on  the  road  they  were  traveling, 
but  by  turning  to  the  left  about  a  mile  up  they 
could  eventually  strike  the  right  direction  again. 

Before  they  reached  the  turn,  however,  a  gaudy 
billposter,  stuck  to  the  side  of  an  old  barn,  inspired 
Colchester  with  a  new  idea. 

"Doesn't  that  appeal  to  you?"  he  cried,  stop- 
ping the  horse  for  a  more  careful  inspection.  "  For 
four  years  I've  been  wanting  to  go  to  a  Yorkville 
Cattle  Show,  and  I've  never  thought  of  it  in  time. 
We  can't  get  to  Greenmeadow  for  supper  anyway, 
and  we  might  see  the  fag  end  of  this.  What  do 
you  say?  " 

They  said  they  didn't  mind — in  fact,  the  idea 
rather  appealed  to  them — and  instead  of  turning  to 
the  left  a  mile  up,  they  kept  straight  ahead  and  ar- 

106 


rived  at  the  Yorkville  fair  grounds  with  an  hour  of 
the  afternoon  still  before  them. 

They  hitched  the  horse  under  a  shed  and  set 
about  making  a  tour  of  the  sights.  Colchester  had 
been  to  country  fairs  in  the  days  of  his  boyhood, 
but  the  others  had  not,  and  they  found  plenty  to 
amuse  them.  The  pig  and  cow  and  poultry  ex- 
hibits received  careful  attention  first,  as  was  fitting, 
and  then  they  started  the  rounds  of  the  other  shows. 

"  Will  you  look  who's  here !  "  exclaimed  Bill, 
stopping  at  the  edge  of  a  crowd  that  surrounded  a 
tentlike  structure  in  which  some  entertainment  was 
evidently  about  to  begin.  A  few  feet  away  from 
them  stood  Bobby  Crane,  eating  peanuts  with  gusto 
and  grinning  amiably  upon  them. 

"  Greetings!  "  he  called,  beckoning  with  his  bag 
of  peanuts. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Bobby?"  asked 
Colchester,  offering  a  bag  of  popcorn  in  exchange. 

"  Scattering  peanut  shells  and  seeing  the  sights. 
I've  been  trying  to  visit  one  of  these  things  ever 
since  I  heard  Charley  Dalton  tell  about  the  one  he 
came  to  once,  and  I  was  bound  I'd  come  over  this 
fall  if  I  had  to  come  alone.  I  had  to — I  couldn't 
find  a  soul  that  showed  a  spark  of  interest — so  I 
took  my  touring  car  and  came  along." 

"  Where's  the  touring  car?  " 

"  Back  in  the  chicken  exhibit.  Oh,  you  ought  to 
107 


THE   NEW  SOPHOMORE 

have  seen  me  arrive!  I  think  nobody  ever  saw  a 
motorcycle  around  here  before.  I  was  one  of  the 
exhibits  myself!  I  had  to  lock  the  thing  up  to  get 
a  little  decent  privacy." 

"What  goes  on  here?"  asked  Bill,  seeing  that 
the  people  were  beginning  to  flock  into  the  tent. 

"  Monsieur  Louis  Mullana,  the  eminent  French 
hypnotist,  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world !  "  Crane 
indicated  a  flaring  placard  with  a  toss  of  a  peanut 
shell.  "  Only  one  dime — ten  cents,  and  I'm  going 
to  blow  myself." 

They  all  decided  to  blow  themselves,  and  hav- 
ing paid  their  dimes,  were  admitted  to  the  tent.  It 
was  not  a  large  tent,  and  they  had  hardly  entered 
when  the  doorkeeper  announced  that  those  still 
waiting  would  have  to  wait  on  till  the  next  perform- 
ance. After  making  fast  the  flap  that  served  as 
a  door  he  disappeared,  and  a  couple  of  minutes 
later  mounted  the  small  stage  at  the  other  end  of 
the  tent  in  the  guise  of  Monsieur  Mullana. 

'  What'll  you  bet  his  name  didn't  use  to  be  Ma- 
loney?  "  whispered  Crane,  as  the  eighth  wonder  of 
the  world  advanced  to  the  front  of  the  stage  and 
began  to  explain  the  nature  of  the  marvels  he  was 
about  to  perform  with  an  accent  that  certainly  never 
came  out  of  sunny  France. 

"  Now  would  some  kind  members  of  the  audi- 
ence kindly  step  to  the  platform  and  lend  me  their 

108 


A    RURAL   ADVENTURE 

valuable  assistance  in  doing  the  little  experiments  I 
intend  to  try?"  he  asked,  rubbing  his  hands  to- 
gether and  beaming  perspiringly  upon  the  tightly 
packed  gathering.  u  I  have  a  regular  assistant,  but 
you  might  say  that  he  was  in  league  with  me,  so  I 
would  like  some  member  of  the  audience  who  you 
all  know  to  kindly  step  to  the  stage,  so  you  can  see 
that  everything  I  claim  is  bony  fide." 

Kind  members  of  the  audience  were  slow  to  re- 
spond to  this  invitation,  being  naturally  timid  in  the 
face  of  such  marvels  as  Monsieur  had  guaranteed 
to  perform. 

"  Here's  a  chance  for  a  little  psychological  in- 
vestigation," suggested  Crane,  leading  the  way,  and 
as  one  man  the  four  climbed  upon  the  platform. 
That  broke  the  spell,  and  six  or  eight  others  al- 
lowed their  curiosity  to  dispel  their  timidity  and 
came  forward  also.  The  audience,  moved  by  this 
daring  of  their  fellow-townsmen,  crowded  closer. 

The  volunteers  were  arranged  in  a  circle  on  the 
platform,  with  Monsieur's  assistant  in  the  center. 
When  the  arrangement  was  satisfactory  Monsieur 
took  his  stand  in  front  of  them,  his  back  to  the 
audience.  He  stood  impressively  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment with  his  hand  over  his  eyes. 

"  He's  summoning  the  spirits,"  whispered  Crane 
audibly,  and  the  circle  wavered  uneasily. 

Suddenly  Monsieur  lifted  one  arm  in  an  impera- 
109 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

tive  gesture.  Every  eye  was  glued  upon  him.  Then 
with  an  unintelligible  cry  he  gave  his  arm  a  violent 
wave  and  stamped  his  foot. 

"You  cannot  move!"  he  announced.  "Try! 
You  cannot  move !  " 

For  an  instant  the  circle  was  motionless.  Then, 
defiantly,  different  members  of  it  lifted  a  foot  or 
wriggled  an  arm,  and  the  audience  stirred  with  a 
sound  that  was  part  sighs  of  relief  and  part  laugh- 
ter. It  would  take  more  than  this  Frenchman  to 
come  any  mysteries  over  them!  Then  their  relief 
and  amusement  merged  into  astonishment,  for  two 
of  the  circle  had  not  moved.  The  assistant  and 
Bobby  Crane  stood  rigid,  their  distended  eyes  upon 
Monsieur. 

"What's  the  matter,  Bobby?"  exclaimed  Bill, 
nudging  Crane,  who  stood  beside  him.  "  Brace  up ! 
You  can  move  if  you  want  to !  " 

For  the  tiniest  fraction  of  a  second  the  eyelid 
next  to  Bill  flickered  and  Bill  was  answered. 

Monsieur  repeated  his  gyrations  once  more,  and 
this  time  Bill  did  not  move.  Then  the  eminent 
French  hypnotist  tackled  each  one  in  turn,  but  not 
another  man  responded  to  his  power. 

"  We  have  three  very  good  subjects  here,"  he 
announced  then.  "  The  others  are  not  in  the  right 
state  of  mind,  and  it  would  take  a  great  deal  of  time 
and  will  power  to  get  them  into  it,  and  I  can't  afford 

no 


it.  I  can  work  with  three  just  as  well  as  if  there  was 
ten,"  and  he  dismissed  the  others  with  profuse 
thanks. 

Colchester  and  Burnet  jumped  down  from  the 
platform  rather  mystified.  They  could  not  believe 
that  Monsieur  Mullana  had  really  been  able  to  keep 
anyone  from  moving,  but  there  stood  Crane  and 
Bill,  rigid  and  apparently  deaf  to  all  their  question- 
ing. 

"  I  think  it's  all  a  game  of  theirs,"  said  Col- 
chester. "  But  we'll  stay  up  front  here  where  we 
can  butt  in  if  anything  happens." 

Monsieur's  first  experiments  were  very  simple, 
consisting  solely  in  telling  his  three  subjects  they 
could  not  open  their  mouths,  or  lift  their  hands, 
or  turn  their  heads.  In  each  case  the  three 
tried  desperately  to  do  the  forbidden  thing,  and  in 
vain. 

Monsieur  turned  elatedly  to  the  audience. 

"  You  can  see  my  power,"  he  said.  "  These  two 
gentlemen  are  strangers  to  me — I  have  never  set 
eyes  on  either  one  of  them  before — but  they  will 
obey  everything  I  tell  them."  He  turned  back  again 
till  he  faced  Bill,  and  raised  his  arm  with  the  strange 
cry  that  was  one  of  the  most  prominent  manifesta- 
tions of  his  "  power."  Then  with  a  slow  motion  of 
both  hands  before  Bill's  face  he  said  slowly:  "  You 
are  far  away  from  here — you  are  in  a  beautiful  gar- 

iii 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

den  full  of  lovely  flowers  and  fountains  and  singing 
birds.    Beautiful  nymp's " 

A  vacant,  idiotic  smile  had  been  spreading  over 
Bill's  face,  and  his  eye  roamed  languishingly  over  the 
heads  of  the  audience.  Suddenly  Crane  stepped  for- 
ward and  began  slowly  gyrating  about  the  platform. 

"  I'm  a  nymp !  I'm  a  nymp !  "  he  warbled  joy- 
fully, waving  a  coquettish  hand  at  Bill. 

Monsieur's  flow  of  description  stopped  for  an  in- 
stant, and  a  careful  observer  might  have  imagined 
that  he  was  surprised  at  this  evidence  of  his 
"  power."  The  assistant  entirely  forgot  the  beauti- 
ful garden  and  the  singing  birds,  and  stared  as  only  a 
man  in  his  complete  senses  can  stare. 

"  Oh,  nympie,  nympie !  "  called  Bill,  waving 
his  hand  in  turn  and  plainly  meditating  pursuit  of  the 
dancing  sprite. 

Up  went  Monsieur's  arm,  fairly  hurling 
"  power  "  at  them. 

'You  are  in  a  forest!  "  he  announced  sternly. 
"  A  dark,  wild  forest,  full  of  savage  beasts " 

The  assistant  got  under  the  influence  again  with 
a  wild  howl,  and  scampered  frantically  into  a  corner. 
Crane  was  evidently  no  longer  a  nymph;  he  began 
pacing  rapidly  up  and  down  the  stage,  uttering  fero- 
cious growls  and  snapping  viciously  at  the  terrified 
assistant.  Bill  forsook  his  pursuit  to  perch  on  the 
edge  of  the  platform,  chattering  and  grimacing,  and 

112 


A   RURAL   ADVENTURE 

scratching  in  a  frenzied  fashion  at  his  head  and 
sides. 

A  shrill  wail  showed  that  the  terror  of  this  forest 
primeval  had  spread  to  the  audience,  and  a  fat  farm- 
er-lady had  to  stop  watching  the  performance  long 
enough  to  soothe  her  frightened  babe.  Most  of  the 
on-lookers  wavered  between  laughter  and  mystifica- 
tion, for  Monsieur's  awesome  bearing  still  lent  a 
touch  of  dignity  to  the  proceedings  that  even  these 
wild  animal  antics  could  not  utterly  destroy.  But 
Colchester  and  Burnet  rocked  with  glee,  and  tossed 
peanuts  at  Bill. 

"  Now  a  hunter  approaches !  "  cried  Monsieur, 
raising  his  voice  above  the  growling  and  the  chat- 
tering. u  He  raises  his  gun — he  fires !  You  see, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  animals  are  dead." 

Dead  they  were,  to  all  appearances.  Bill  and 
Crane  lay  stretched  out  on  the  platform  without  a 
quiver  or  a  moan,  and  the  assistant  took  heart  and 
came  out  of  his  corner  again. 

"  Now,"  and  Monsieur  smiled  genially,  "  I  will 
bring  them  back,  and  they  won't  remember  a  thing 
that  has  happened  to  them." 

He  went  to  Bill  first,  and  bending  over  slightly 
made  some  gentle  passes  above  his  head. 

"  You  are  coming  back,"  he  murmured  monoto- 
nously. "  You  are  coming  back,  but  you  will  not 
remember  the  garden  and  the  forest — you  are 

"3 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

almost  back — you  are  waking  up — you  are 
awake!  " 

He  finished  with  a  quick  snapping  of  his  fingers 
and  slapped  his  hands  smartly  together.  But  Bill 
still  lay  motionless. 

"  You  are  waking  up — you  are  almost  awake !  " 
Monsieur  repeated,  and  went  through  the  snapping 
and  slapping  again.  Bill  did  not  stir. 

"He  is  tired — he  will  come  out  of  it  in  a  minute," 
explained  Monsieur  easily,  and  went  over  to  Crane. 
But  Crane  failed  likewise  to  respond  to  his  exhorta- 
tions. The  assistant,  who  was  evidently  so  used  to 
waking  up  at  this  juncture  that  he  did  not  need  to  be 
told,  came  forward  with  something  very  like  a  wor- 
ried look. 

"  Did  yer  really  do  it  to  'em  ?  "  he  whispered, 
poking  Bill  with  his  foot. 

"  S-sh  !  "  hissed  Monsieur,  but  the  whisper  had 
reached  some  of  the  audience  and  created  a  ripple  of 
excitement.  What  had  been  merely  mystifying  and 
amusing  bade  fair  to  develop  into  something  more 
serious,  and  even  those  who  had  not  heard  crowded 
nearer. 

"  Do  you  think  anything  is  really  the  matter  with 
them?  "  asked  Burnet. 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Colchester  decidedly. 
"  They're  putting  it  on,  just  like  all  the  rest  of  it." 

But  the  excuse  that  they  were  "  tired  "  failed  to 
114 


satisfy  Monsieur's  audience,  and  keeping  them  from 
storming  the  platform  gave  him  all  he  could  at- 
tend to,  while  at  the  same  time  he  was  muttering 
commands,  entreaties,  and  swear  words  at  his  two 
prostrate  "  subjects."  At  length  they  could  be  re- 
strained no  longer,  and  the  assistant  made  a  hasty 
and  worried  exit. 

"  Something  may  be  the  matter !  "  exclaimed 
Burnet.  "  Perhaps  he  was  really  making  them  do. 
those  things!  " 

"  Don't  you  believe  it !  But  we  might  as  well 
take  a  hand  in  the  reviving,"  and  Colchester  climbed 
to  the  platform  and  elbowed  his  way  into  the  circle 
that  now  surrounded  the  plainly  uneasy  Monsieur. 

The  afternoon  was  waning,  and  inside  the  tent 
the  light  had  given  way  to  a  dusky  twilight  in  which 
all  sorts  of  gruesome  things  seemed  possible.  A 
silence  had  fallen,  strangely  emphasized  by  the  cry- 
ing of  the  farmer-lady's  baby,  as  Colchester  stooped 
over  Bill's  outstretched  figure.  He  certainly  did 
look  unusually  pale. 

"Bill!"  Colchester  cried  sharply.  "Look 
here,  and  cut  out  the  fooling!  "  He  seized  Bill  by 
the  shoulder  and  shook  him  roughly. 

"  Better  get  some  water,"  someone  suggested, 
and  Monsieur  added  fuel  to  the  excitement  by  try- 
ing to  steal  away  while  Colchester  held  the  center 
of  attention.  But  the  very  mention  of  water  seemed 


THE   NEW  SOPHOMORE 

to  have  a  restorative  effect,  for  Bill  began  to  moan 
uneasily  and  after  a  minute  opened  his  eyes. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  murmured,  and  at 
the  same  time  Crane  also  began  to  show  signs  of 
returning  consciousness. 

"  Ye  can  see  they're  all  right!  "  protested  Mon- 
sieur, so  hard  pressed  that  he  had  clean  forgot  he 
was  a  French  Monsieur.  But  his  audience  had 
been  stirred  to  too  deep  an  indignation  at  his  un- 
holy practices  to  be  calmed  by  any  such  protest  as 
that.  They  were  for  haling  him  forth  to  justice. 

"  There's  a  row  coming,  and  we'd  better  beat 
it,"  whispered  Crane,  getting  to  his  feet  and  edging 
away.  "  The  embattled  farmers  are  going  to  get 
after  Mr.  Maloney  good  and  plenty." 

"Come  out  into  the  air!"  said  Colchester 
loudly,  taking  Bill  and  Crane  each  by  an  arm  and 
leading  them  out.  There  was  a  movement  to  fol- 
low them,  for  the  testimony  of  these  resurrected 
ones  would  be  worth  listening  to,  but  Monsieur 
Mullana  was  showing  signs  of  fight,  and  that  was 
worth  much  more.  So  Colchester  and  his  charges 
came  out  alone,  with  Burnet  close  at  their  heels. 

Three  or  four  who  had  not  been  able  to  get  ad- 
mittance stood  outside. 

"  Show  over?  "  one  of  them  asked. 

"  Oh,  no — it's  just  beginning,"  answered  Bill. 
"  Say,"  he  added,  as  Colchester  started  hurrying 

116 


A    RURAL   ADVENTURE 

them  away.  "  Do  you  think  the  old  fakir  is  going 
to  get  into  any  trouble?  " 

"  He  may  get  his  head  punched — that's  all," 
said  Crane  serenely. 

"  But  that  isn't  fair!  We  ought  to  tell  them  we 
were  only  faking." 

"  Ridgeway,"  said  Crane  solemnly,  "  those  peo- 
ple paid  their  good  dimes  to  go  in  there  and  get 
fooled — but  they  didn't  want  to  know  it.  If  Mon- 
sieur Maloney  can  get  away  with  it  and  make  them 
think  they've  seen  something  marvelous,  they'll 
feel  that  they've  had  their  money's  worth  and  be 
properly  grateful.  It'll  give  'em  something  to  talk 
about  for  a  good  long  time.  But  if  you  get  fool- 
ish and  tell  'em  it's  all  a  fake,  they'll  turn  and  rend 
you — take  my  word  for  it.  Personally,  I'm  going 
over  to  the  chicken  shed  and  get  my  touring  car,  and 
then  I'm  going  home." 

"  Don't  run  away  and  desert  us  like  that.  Isn't 
there  a  hotel  or  something  around  here  where  we  can 
get  a  square  meal?"  asked  Colchester. 

"  There's  a  hotel  in  Yorkville — I  don't  know 
about  the  square  meal." 

"  You'd  better  stay  and  try  it,  Bobby." 

Bobby  consented  to  stay,  and  they  found  the 
meal  as  square  as  they  had  any  desire  for.  Col- 
chester called  up  the  Greenmeadow  Inn,  where  the 
rest  of  the  Kappa  Chi  brethren  were  holding  forth, 
9  117 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

and,  lest  they  should  be  worrying  about  him,  told 
them  he  had  suddenly  changed  his  mind  and  come 
to  the  Yorkville  Cattle  Show. 

"  If  you  have  any  regard  for  my  feelings  at  all," 
he  pleaded  when  he  came  back  to  the  table,  "  for 
Heaven's  sake  swear  that  that's  the  truth.  That 
man  Hawkins  will  howl  about  it  for  a  week  if  he 
knows  I  lost  my  way." 

Burnet,  especially,  enjoyed  that  meal,  as  he  had 
enjoyed  the  whole  afternoon.  It  had  been  weeks, 
now,  it  seemed,  since  any  of  the  Kappa  Chi  men  had 
treated  him  like  a  fellow  being,  and  to-day,  with  Bill 
and  Colchester  calling  him  "  Bunny "  and  appar- 
ently forgetting  that  he  was  a  measly  freshman,  was 
a  day  to  be  remembered.  He  wished  very  much 
that  there  were  no  such  things  as  seniors  and  sopho- 
mores and  freshmen.  People  get  on  such  a  lot 
better  when  they  forget  it. 

The  evening  was  well  along  when  Crane  gave 
them  parting  explicit  instructions  about  the  way 
home  and  mounted  his  motorcycle  to  speed  ahead. 

"  I'm  sorry,  but  I  can't  mope  along  at  your 
gait,"  he  said.  "  My  old  steed  here  would  run 
down." 

With  the  big  autumn  moon  to  light  them  they  had 
a  long  and  beautiful  ride  back.  Burnet  lingered  while 
the  horse  was  put  in  the  stable,  and  his  good  night  at 
the  corner  was  almost  wistful. 

118 


A    RURAL   ADVENTURE 

"Poor  Bunny!"  said  Bill,  when  he  had  left 
them  and  turned  toward  the  Dorms.  "  To-morrow 
he's  got  to  call  us  Mister  again,  and  take  off  his  hat 
to  us." 

"  It  won't  be  much  longer,"  answered  Colches- 
ter. "  And  it's  supposed  to  be  good  for  him.  Com- 
ing down  to  the  house?  " 


CHAPTER  VI 

FRESHMAN   BURNET    WRITES   A    THEME 

SUFFERING  kittens,  Bunny!  You  don't  call 
this  an  English  theme,  do  you?" 
It  being  a  vacant  hour  between  recitations, 
Bill  had  dropped  into  Burnet's  room  to  save  himself 
the  five  minutes'  walk  down  to  Mrs.  Sleeper's  and 
back.  This  had  become  more  or  less  of  a  habit  with 
him  since  initiation  was  over  and  he  was  able  to 
associate  with  the  freshmen  on  terms  approaching 
equality,  and  he  was  poking  about  on  the  table  for 
something  to  read,  though  he  usually  ended  by  spend- 
ing the  hour  in  talking.  A  bulky  manuscript,  written 
in  a  scrawly  hand  and  folded,  was  the  only  thing  new 
he  came  upon,  and  struck  by  its  size,  he  picked  it  up 
curiously. 

"  Sure !  "  answered  Burnet.  "  Better  read  it. 
There's  a  lot  of  things  in  it  I  bet  you  never  knew 
before." 

"  I  should  hope  so !  If  I  knew  enough  to  fill 
this  I'd  quit  going  to  college.  How  did  you  ever 
have  the  nerve  to  hand  it  in?  If  I  were  a  professor 
I'd  flunk  a  man  that  handed  me  a  thing  this  size." 

120 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

"  No  you  wouldn't,  after  you'd  read  it.  I  got 
an  A  on  that  theme." 

"Conundrum:  Why  is  Bunny  Burnet  like  a 
shrinking  violet?  Answer:  He  isn't,  because  a 
shrinking  violet  doesn't  write  English  themes  and  is 
noted  for  its  modesty."  Bill  fixed  himself  by  the 
window  and  unfolded  the  manuscript.  "  I've  only 
got  an  hour,  but  I'll  tackle  the  first  instalment. 
'  Sabrina,'  eh?  How  do  you  come  to  know  so  much 
about  Sabrina?  " 

"  Oh,  my  family  used  to  live  in  Tresham  years 
ago,  when  Sabrina  used  to  be  here,  and  my  uncle 
was  in  college  when  they  started  the  banquet  stunt. 
I've  got  a  brother  who  was  a  Sabrina  man,  too." 

"  Quite  a  Sabrina  family.  Why  didn't  you 
wait  a  year,  so  you  could  be  in  the  right  class  your- 
self?" 

"  Couldn't.  I  think  I'll  go  through  in  three 
years,  though.  That'll  land  me  in  an  even-year  class 
and  do  just  as  well — unless  we  should  happen  to  get 
her  away  from  you." 

"  Hu-uh !  A  fat  chance  you  stand  of  getting 
her  away,  from  all  I've  heard  on  the  subject!  I 
guess  you'd  better  try  plugging  real  hard  and  skip 
into  our  class.  There  are  worse  classes  to  be  in,  you 
know.  Say,  Bunny,  I  wish  you'd  had  this  typewrit- 
ten. You're  one  of  the  real  genii,  if  bum  writing  is 
any  sign." 

121 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

Burnet  made  no  reply  and  Bill  started  reading. 

He  had  heard  of  Sabrina  almost  the  first  day  after 
he  arived  in  Tresham,  but  she  was  still  hardly  more 
than  a  name  to  him,  and  he  knew  next  to  nothing  of 
her  history.  To  tell  the  truth,  that  history,  as  most 
people  know  it  now,  is  such  a  mixture  of  fact  and 
fiction,  mingled  haphazard  as  it  has  come  down 
through  the  years,  that  no  undergraduate  of  to-day 
can  tell  what  is  to  be  vouched  for  and  what  not. 
But  everyone  accepts  the  story  as  tradition  has 
shaped  it,  and  it  was  thus  that  Burnet  had  put  it 
down  in  his  theme. 

Burnet  sat  down  at  his  desk  with  a  book  before 
him,  but  with  the  conscious  air  of  an  author  whose 
work  is  under  inspection  he  kept  stealing  glances  at 
Bill's  face,  seeking  for  some  expression  of  approval 
or  enjoyment  there.  But  Bill's  face  wore  nothing 
but  a  scowl. 

"  Say,  Bunny,"  he  exclaimed  at  length. 
"What's  this  word?" 

Burnet  went  over  and  looked. 

"  '  Legends,'  of  course,"  he  said. 

"  No  '  of  course  '  about  it !  It  looks  like 
'  liquids  '  to  me.  You  never  dot  your  i's  anyway. 
How  is  anyone  to  know  those  are  e's?  " 

He  struggled  on,  with  Burnet  standing  by  to  de- 
cipher whenever  he  could  not  make  out  a  word. 

"  Honestly,  I  can't  read  it!  "  he  cried  at  length. 
122 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

"  It's — it's  worse  than  a  Greek  lesson.  Read  it  to 
me,  won't  you?  I'd  really  like  to  find  out  some- 
thing about  the  old  lady,  and  you  ought  to  have  a 
fact  or  two  tucked  away  somewhere  in  all  this 
mass." 

Burnet  took  the  manuscript,  colored,  and 
coughed.  He  disliked  reading  his  own  production 
aloud — it  sounded  like  showing  off — but  he  had  lit- 
erary aspirations,  and  he  really  wanted  Bill's  opin- 
ion of  it. 

"  Shall  I  start  at  the  beginning?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  wish  you  would.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't 
exactly  get  the  drift  of  it  all." 

"  All  right.  Only  if  you  fall  asleep,  I'll  throw 
something  at  you,"  he  said,  and  began  reading. 

"  '  Sabrina  has  been  an  institution  at  Tresham 
College  for  so  long  that  she  has  finally  become  a 
full-fledged  tradition,  about  whom  legends  have 
been  busy  now  for  many  a  year.  Long  ago,  when 
the  college  was  only  a  little  cluster  of  some  half 
dozen  buildings  or  so  on  the  hill,  she  occupied  a  re- 
spectable decorative  position  on  the  campus,  and  all 
who  would  might  come  and  look  upon  her.  But 
students  in  those  days  saw  only  the  bronze  statue  of 
a  maiden,  sitting  peaceably  in  the  middle  of  an  or- 
dinary flower  bed.  Those  who  had  studied  their 
college  English  to  good  purpose — if  boys  studied 
college  English  in  that  far-off  time — could  recog- 

123 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

nize  in  her,  if  they  thought  about  it,  a  certain  kindly 
water  fairy,  who  came  to  the  rescue  of  a  distressed 
lady  in  a  famous  poem  by  John  Milton.'  ' 

Burnet  turned  the  page  and  looked  up  inquir- 
ingly. 

Bill  nodded. 

"  Very  fine!  "  he  observed.  "  Sounds  just  like 
a  real  author." 

Burnet  continued  reading. 

"  '  But  I  am  afraid  they  did  not  consider  her 
with  the  respect  so  classical  a  person  deserved.  At 
any  rate,  they  did  not  treat  her  respectfully,  for  one 
morning  when  everyone  was  hurrying  to  get  into  his 
seat  before  the  chapel  bell  stopped  ringing,  the 
bronze  goddess  sat  revealed  to  them  in  the  midst  of 
her  little  garden,  decked  in  a  hideous  coat  of  fresh 
paint.  It  was  green  paint,  if  I  remember  rightly. 
From  that  day  the  poor  lady  was  the  object  of  all 
manner  of  indignities.  On  winter  mornings  the 
chapel-goers  came  to  find  it  no  uncommon  thing  to 
behold  her  draped  fantastically  in  a  bright-hued 
crazy  quilt,  or  clad  in  the  cast-off  garments  of  some 
freshman,  bent  on  a  practical  joke.  From  time  to 
time  she  received  a  new  coat  of  paint,  until  her  origi- 
nal color  was  a  thing  to  be  guessed  at,  perhaps,  but 
never  known  for  certain.  At  length  those  in  au- 
thority decided  that  she  was  no  longer  a  dignified 
and  beautiful  ornament  for  the  campus,  though 

124 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

originally,   I  have  heard,   she  was  very  beautiful. 
There  is  a  small  reproduction  of  her  in  the  library 


now/  ' 


'Where?"  asked  Bill. 

"  Upstairs  in  a  sort  of  show-case.  I  shouldn't 
have  put  that  in,  according  to  Mr.  Professor's  red- 
ink  marks.  It  spoils  the  continuity." 

"  Interesting  fact,  though.  I'll  have  a  look  at 
her." 

"  '  She  was  cast  away,'  "  Burnet  continued,  "  '  to 
be  sold  for  old  junk,  and  passed  into  the  oblivion  of 
the  janitor's  junk  heap,  where  she  lay,  no  one  knows 
how  long,  forgotten.  Since  then,  the  public  at  large 
has  seen  her  no  more. 

"  '  Since  then,  too,  the  public  at  large  has  had  to 
depend  wholly  upon  hearsay  for  news  of  her,  and 
here  legend  has  stepped  in  and  taken  a  hand  in  her 
history.  Many  things  are  told  of  her  that  may  never 
have  happened  at  all,  but  what  we  can  be  sure  of  is 
this — that  one  year  one  of  the  students  who  had  al- 
ways lived  in  Tresham  and  remembered  Sabrina  as 
a  boy '  " 

"  It  wasn't  your  respected  uncle,  was  it?  " 

"  No ;  my  uncle  didn't  live  in  Tresham.  But  it 
was  one  of  his  classmates.  I  used  to  get  Uncle 
Henry  to  tell  me  about  it  when  I  was  a  kid.  He  was 
one  of  the  fellows " 

"  Let's  hear  your  tale  in  its  proper  order. 
125 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

You're  no  kind  of  an  author  to  be  interrupting  your 
story  to  skip  ahead  that  way." 

"  Very  well, — 'conceived  the  idea  of  hunting  her 
up,  if  she  still  existed.  He  found  that  she  did  still 
exist,  and  that  the  janitor,  who  for  some  reason  had 
not  been  willing  to  destroy  her,  had  put  her  away 
somewhere.  After  searching  around,  he  at  length 
discovered  her  in  the  janitor's  barn.  That  discov- 
ery marked  the  beginning  of  her  second  series  of 
adventures,  which  have  continued  to  this  day.  She 
was  kidnapped  and  taken  away  to  a  class  banquet. 
It  evidently  proved  to  be  a  successful  stunt,  for  the 
class  kept  her  as  its  presiding  goddess  all  the  rest  of 
the  time  they  were  in  college,  and  when  they  came 
to  be  seniors,  being  an  even-year  class,  they  planned 
to  turn  her  over  to  the  next  even-year  class,  then 
sophomores,  as  a  most  sacred  legacy.  It  was  to  be 
a  grand  affair,  observed  with  fitting  ceremonies  and 
ending  in  a  celebration  that  everyone  who  took  part 
in  it  would  remember  as  one  of  the  times  of  his  life. 
But  their  plans  did  not  turn  out  happily.  Those  who 
had  charge  of  the  matter  attempted  to  carry  the  god- 
dess through  the  town,  in  broad  daylight,  in  an  open 
wagon.  The  result  was  disastrous.  A  crowd  of 
odd-year  men  saw  them,  and  almost  before  the 
guardians  of  the  statue  realized  what  was  happen- 
ing, they  had  lost  her. 

"  '  Then  the  odd-year  men  made  her  their  divin- 
126 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

ity,  and  they  in  turn  planned  to  bequeath  her  to  their 
successors.  They  accomplished  their  plan  more  suc- 
cessfully, and  Sabrina  might  be  the  goddess  of  the 
odd  classes  to  this  day  if  an  even-year  man  had  not 
discovered  that  she  was  to  be  shipped  somewhere 
by  express,  and  fooled  an  assistant  expressman  into 
handing  her  over  to  him.  He  got  away  with  her, 
but  his  class  spirit  got  him  into  a  lot  of  trouble.  The 
law  was  invoked,  and  the  story  is  that  he  had  to 
take  a  little  trip  out  of  the  country  until  the  storm 
blew  over. 

4  From  that  time,  every  two  years,  Sabrina  has 
been  handed  down  from  class  to  class,  so  that  for 
years  even-year  classes  have  been  known  as  "Sabrina 
men,"  held  together  by  a  bond  which  enemies  may 
scoff  at  but  never  deny.  They  have  a  song  to  her 
which  is  their  war  chant : 

"  All  hail,  Sabrina  dear, 
The  widow  of  each  passing  year; 
Long  may  she  ever  be 
The  widow  of  posterity," 

and  their  singing  of  it  is  always  a  cry  to  battle  that 
stirs  up  a  furore  fit  to  raise  the  roof,  for  no  odd- 
class  man  can  hear  it  without  shouting  his  loudest  to 
drown  it  out. 

'  The  goddess  is  never  seen  even  by  her  wor- 
shipers except  at  a  banquet,  which  is  held  every  other 

127 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

year  and  is  a  great  secret.  No  odd-class  man  has 
beheld  her  at  all  since  the  days  of  the  early  Nine- 
ties, though  they  still  vainly  struggle  to  regain  pos- 
session of  her.  That  is  why  freshmen  and  juniors 
stick  more  closely  by  one  another  at  Tresham  than 
they  do  at  other  colleges — if  they  belong  to  an  even- 
year  class,  because  they  are  Sabrina  men,  if  not,  be- 
cause they  hate  Sabrina. 

"  '  They  tell  all  sorts  of  tales  about  the  places 
her  guardians  have  hidden  her  in.  In  the  good  old 
days  that  older  men  always  love  to  boast  of,  she  had 
very  wonderful  adventures,  buried  in  caves,  hidden 
in  barns,  sunk  in  harbors.  She  spent  a  year  in  a 
negro  crap  joint  down  among  the  city  wharves;  she 
took  a  trip  to  Europe.  They  even  say  that  once  she 
stayed  for  a  time  at  the  bottom  of  the  college  well. 
But  now — again  according  to  hearsay — they  follow 
a  more  modern  fashion  and  keep  her  securely  in  a 
safe-deposit  vault.  When  the  sophomore  class  is 
entrusted  with  her  she  is  put  into  the  hands  of  one 
man.  He  alone  knows  where  she  is  concealed,  and 
no  one  else  even  knows  who  this  guardian  is  except 
the  president  of  the  class,  who  appoints  him. 

"  '  That  is  all  we  know  of  Sabrina  now,  and  all 
of  this  we  cannot  be  sure  of.  Perhaps  a  good  deal 
of  it  is  mere  glamour  gilded  by  the  artistic  hand  of 
fancy.  She  makes  a  good  story  anyway,  and  we  who 
can  never  behold  her  may  console  ourselves  with  the 

128 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

thought  that,  after  all,  she  is  now  more  of  a  tradi- 
tion than  anything  else.  The  old,  keen  rivalry  that 
once  made  such  strong  class  spirit  has  departed. 
The  old  sporting  element  has  dropped  out,  for  in 
these  prosaic  days  the  love  of  adventure  is  dead. 
There  is  no  chance  any  more  for  us  to  get  at  her. 
We  cannot  break  open  safe-deposit  vaults,  nor  can 
we  go  down  to  New  York  and  storm  a  hotel  that 
is  guarded  by  policemen.  For  nowadays  it  is  al- 
ways there,  and  thus,  that  Sabrina  men  hold  their 
banquets.  She  cannot  mean  so  much  to  them  now 
as  she  did  in  the  olden  days,  when  to  keep  her 
meant  to  fight  for  her.  And  so  what  was  once  one 
of  the  finest  incentives  to  class  spirit  in  college 
has  degenerated  into  a  biennial  excuse  for  a  good 
time.'  " 

Burnet  had  forgotten  that  he  was  merely  read- 
ing a  theme  he  had  written  for  his  course  in  English. 
He  lost  himself  in  the  spirit  of  what  he  was  saying, 
and  with  raised  voice  and  flushed  cheeks,  he  finished 
in  a  grand  elocutionary  flourish.  Then  Bill,  with 
serious  face  but  twinkling  eyes,  applauding  wildly 
in  dumb  show,  brought  him  to  earth. 

"Well?"  he  questioned,  rather  embarrassed  at 
his  own  enthusiasm. 

"  We-11,"  Bill  spoke  judicially,  as  if  rendering 
a  weighty  opinion,  "  I  think  that  ending's  a  little 
strong  for  a  man  who  is  planning  to  skip  a  class  so 

129 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

he  can  go  and  do  likewise.  Isn't  there  just  a  little 
bit  of  green  apples,  or  sour  apples,  or  whatever  you 
call  it,  in  that  grand  finale?  " 

"No,  sir!"  declared  Burnet  emphatically. 
"  You  wait  till  you've  been  here  a  while  longer  and 
see  if  you  don't  think  the  same  thing.  You'll  never 
admit  it,  of  course,  because  you're  a  Sabrina  man, 
but  I  know  just  the  way  you'll  feel  about  it." 

"  Hum !  You  know,  Bunny,  I've  been  in  this  in- 
stitution just  exactly  as  long  as  you  have — but  per- 
haps you've  had  better  chances  of  sizing  this  thing 
up.  I  can't  say  I've  got  into  the  Sabrina  spirit  very 
hard  yet,  that's  true." 

"  But  just  look !  Don't  you  think  all  those  things 
must  have  been  fun?  And  wasn't  there  something 
sort  of  splendid  about  it  besides — that  idea  of  hav- 
ing something  that  held  the  classes  together,  and 
that  they  could  fight  for,  and  all  that?  I  can  feel  it 
myself,  just  for  a  minute,  when  they  sing  that  '  All 
hail,  Sabrina,'  before  people  get  to  yelling  and  make 
a  farce  out  of  it." 

"  But  the  yelling  ought  to  be  just  what  you  like 
— fighting  and  rivalry  and  that  sort  of  thing. 
That's  the  kind  of  spirit  you're  howling  for,  isn't 
it?" 

"  Oh,  Billy !  You  know  it  isn't !  The  yelling  is 
as  far  as  they  ever  get  now,  and  that's  just  a  matter 
of  form.  There  isn't  anything  back  of  it.  How 

130 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

can  there  be  when  everybody  knows  they  won't  ever 
get  a  chance  to  do  anything  but  yell?  You  don't 
know  how  it  used  to  be  when  Sabrina  was  real. 
There  was  always  a  chance  that  something  might 
really  happen  then." 

"  Well !  Where's  your  tobacco,  Bunny?  Thanks. 
You  know,  all  these  things  you  hear  about  that  used 
to  happen  make  pretty  good  stories,  but  I  have  an 
idea  there's  about  as  much  doing  now.  Perhaps  not 
in  the  Sabrina  line — the  old  lady  may  have  petered 
out.  But  there  are  plenty  of  other  things.  Maybe 
when  it  gets  to  be  our  turn  we  can  stir  up  a  little  en- 
thusiasm about  her  again.  I  guess  the  fellows  would 
scrap  over  her  now  as  hard  as  they  ever  did  if  they 
had  a  chance." 

"  That's  the  trouble :  there  aren't  any  more 
chances.  You  Sabrina  men  are  scared  to  death  of 
taking  a  chance.  You  want  it  to  be  such  a  sure 
thing  that  you'd  have  your  old  banquet  out  in  San 
Francisco  before  you'd  risk  our  being  within  reach- 
ing distance  of  you." 

"  It's  too  bad,  Bunny!  I  tell  you,  if  I  ever  get 
to  be  the  sacred  lady's  custodian,  I  promise  you  I'll 
hide  her  right  here  in  Tresham.  That's  about  as 
near  as  I  can  get.  And  after  she's  handed  on  to 
somebody  else  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"  I  guess  that's  a  safe  promise,  all  right.  Butt 
Chanler  will  have  to  appoint  the  man  from  your 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

class,  and  you  won't  catch  him  appointing  one  of  his 
own  delegation." 

"  Perhaps  not,  but  that  might  be  the  very  rea- 
son he'd  do  it.  You  can't  tell.  Anyway,  you'd  bet- 
ter keep  your  eye  on  William." 

Burnet  laughed  and  folded  his  manuscript. 
"Talk  about  shrinking  violets!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  But  say,  who  do  you  suppose  has  her  now?  " 

"  Couldn't  tell,  really.  Meredith  knows,  I  pre- 
sume, according  to  that  document  of  yours.  Has 
he  always  been  class  president?  " 

"  I  don't  know — but "  Burnet  still  held  his 

manuscript  in  his  hand,  tapping  it  and  hesitating. 
"  Say,  honestly,"  he  said  abruptly,  "  what  do  you 
think  of  this  stuff?  Do  you  think  I  can  write?  " 

"  Lord,  don't  ask  me !  I  thought  it  was  good 
enough.  I  was  interested  anyway,  and  I  know  I 
couldn't  do  anywhere  near  as  well  myself.  You've 
got  sort  of  a  literary  bug,  haven't  you,  Bunny?" 

"  Um — sort  of,  maybe."  Seeing  that  he  could 
not  get  a  real  criticism,  Burnet  was  ready  to  drop 
the  subject.  His  "  literary  bug  "  was  not  a  thing 
he  liked  to  talk  about  in  cold  blood.  "  The  bell  is 
going  to  ring  in  about  two  minutes  and  I've  got  to 
get  down  to  the  Lab.  Coming?  " 

Bill's  next  recitation  happened  to  be  a  lecture 
that  wasn't  particularly  engrossing,  and  he  found 

132 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

after  a  few  minutes  that,  instead  of  listening  to  the 
professor,  he  was  reviewing  in  his  mind  the  scraps 
of  Sabrina  lore  Burnet  had  just  been  reading  to  him. 
Most  of  it  he  had  never  heard  before,  and  it  had  a 
story-book  kind  of  attraction  for  him  that  set  his 
fancy  working.  It  smacked  of  secrecy  and  adven- 
ture, and  though  he  had  listened  carelessly  enough 
to  Burnet's  enthusiasm,  the  spirit  of  it  was  conta- 
gious, and  his  thoughts  were  busy  all  during  the 
hour  weaving  new  tales  about  the  much-traveled 
goddess,  in  which  he  himself  bore  part. 

When  the  lecture  was  over  he  made  straight  for 
the  house  and  for  Butt's  room,  bent  on  getting  fur- 
ther information.  He  found  Butt  practicing  on  his 
mandolin  —  he  seemed  to  be  forever  doing  that 
nowadays — and  Durham  reading  in  a  corner  as 
serenely  as  if  there  were  no  such  thing  as  an  am- 
bitious amateur  musician  within  miles. 

"  Butt!  "  Bill  waited  for  a  lull  in  the  practic- 
ing, but  none  seemed  imminent,  and  he  interrupted. 
Butt  did  not  stop,  but  continued  to  play,  only  notic- 
ing Bill's  peremptory  greeting  with  an  absent 
"Uh-huh?" 

"  Listen,  won't  you?  I'm  looking  for  informa- 
tion." 

Butt  stopped,  his  pick  poised  above  the  strings. 

"  Fire  ahead — I'm  a  regular  fountain  of  it." 

11 1  want  to  know  some  more  about  Sabrina." 

w  133 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  She's  the  guardian  angel  of  the  best  class  in 
Tresham  College,  and  if  you're  a  good  boy  you'll  be 
allowed  to  look  upon  her  some  time  before  the  year's 
over." 

"  Oh,  I  knew  that  before !  Haven't  you  any  in- 
side information?" 

"  Um  —  little  boys  shouldn't  ask  questions — 
about  Sabrina." 

"  Robert  Barrington  Chanler,  if  you  call  me  a 
little  boy  again  I'll  turn  you  over  my  knee." 

"  He  is  obstreperous  for  a  small-sized  person, 
isn't  he?"  observed  Durham,  looking  up  from  his 
book. 

"  Does  he  really  know  a  lot  of  things  nobody 
else  knows,  or  is  he  just  bluffing?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  a  habit  of  his,  and  it's  growing  on 
him.  Just  say  '  Sabrina  '  to  little  Robert  and  he  puffs 
out  with  all  kinds  of  things  he  could  tell  if  he  only 
would." 

"  Butt !  Does  that  mean  the  banquet  is  coming 
off  pretty  soon?  "  cried  Bill. 

"  When  the  proper  time  comes  for  you  to  know, 
you  will  know  whatever  is  proper  for  you  to  know," 
and  Butt  began  diligently  tinkling  away  at  his  man- 
dolin again. 

"  Don't  be  so  easy,  Bill,"  advised  Durham. 
"  He's  stringing  you,  and  it's  just  his  meat  when 
anyone  bites  like  that." 

134 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

"  Butt,  will  you  shut  off  that  noise  for  a  minute 
and  listen?  "  Butt  shut  off  the  noise,  smiling.  "  If 
you  go  to  treating  me  like  a  rank  outsider,  I'll  get 
busy  and  ferret  out  the  whole  business.  You  know 
I'm  an  awful  ferreter." 

Butt  continued  to  smile  indulgently. 

u  Sure  you  are.  But  I  guess  you  don't  know 
Sabrina.  She's  a  magic  lady,  and  she  doesn't  ferret 
worth  a  cent.  Call  in  Mr.  Sherlock  Holmes  and  all 
the  rest  of  your  sleuthhounds,  and  I'll  bet  on  Sa- 
brina  every  time.  They've  been  trying  to  track  her 
for  years,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  yes.  They  have !  But  /  haven't  begun 
yet." 

"  Gee,  Bill,  you  don't  care  what  you  say  about 
yourself,  do  you?  But  you  want  to  remember  that 
Sabrina  isn't  Herbie  Nichols." 

"  Humph !  "  Bill  gave  vent  to  something  that 
was  both  a  snort  and  a  laugh.  "  You  must  be  get- 
ting friendly  with  the  funny  man.  How  long  since 
lie's  been  'Herbie'?" 

"  Oh,  Herbie  isn't  so  bad  after  you  get  to  know 
him.  Just  a  little  crude,  and  if  you're  terribly  fussy 
you  might  say  that  he  lacks  some  of  the  instincts  of 
a  gentleman.  But  he  means  as  well  as  anyone  can." 

"  I  should  call  that  knocking  some,  if  you  asked 
me." 

"  No,  it  isn't.  I'm  not  knocking  him,  I'm  just 
135 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

telling  the  truth.  I've  been  seeing  more  or  less  of 
him  lately,  and  he  isn't  such  a  bad  sort,  honestly. 
He's  pretty  well  ashamed  of  that  stunt  of  his,  haz- 
ing time.  It  was  an  asinine  thing  to  do,  I  know,  but 
it  isn't  right  to  judge  him  just  by  that.  You  or  I 
might  have  done  the  very  same  thing  if  we'd  been 
like  him." 

"  But  we  don't  happen  to  be  like  him,  and  that 
isn't  conceit  either." 

"  I  think  Butt's  getting  scared  about  his  popu- 
larity," remarked  Durham  with  the  suggestion  of  a 
wink.  "  He's  afraid  he  hasn't  got  his  class  presi- 
dency cinched  quite  strong  enough,  so  he's  drum- 
ming up  touts.  I  would  like  to  state  that  personally, 
however,  I  don't  think  much  of  bootlicking,"  and 
Durham  ducked  down  behind  his  book. 

Butt  flushed  indignantly. 

"  Bull  Dur "  he  burst  out,  and  stopped. 

"  Got  a  rise !  "  chuckled  Durham. 

"  Well,  I  think  Nichols  likes  me,  and  there's 
no  need  of  being  nasty  and  snobbish  to  him  just  be- 
cause I  don't  happen  to  be  crazy  over  him." 

"  Do  you  talk  Sabrina  secrets  with  him?  "  asked 
Bill  slyly. 

Butt  serenely  ignored  the  question  and  went  at 
his  practicing  again.  Bill  picked  up  a  magazine  that 
lay  on  the  table,  found  it  was  one  he  had  already 
read,  and  sauntered  upstairs  to  Colchester's  room. 

136 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

He  had  found  a  congenial  soul  in  Colchester,  and 
Effie's  room  was  one  of  his  favorite  dropping-in 
places.  But  to-day  the  door  proved  to  be  locked 
when  he  started  to  enter. 

"  Who  is  it?  "  called  Colchester  from  inside. 

"Bill.  Never  mind!  I  didn't  want  anything 
special." 

But  Colchester  opened  the  door. 

"  Come  on  in,"  he  said. 

"  Sure  I'm  not  butting  in  on  anything?  " 

"  Not  a  thing.    I'd  tell  you  if  you  were." 

Bill  protested  no  more  but  entered.  He  halted 
for  the  fraction  of  a  second  when  he  saw  who  else 
was  there,  a  sudden  suspicion  flashing  across  his 
mind,  born  of  all  the  Sabrina  talk  he  had  been  hear- 
ing that  morning.  Colchester's  visitor  was  Mere- 
dith, the  senior  president,  not  a  great  frequenter  of 
the  Kappa  Chi  house.  Bill  eyed  him  closely,  look- 
ing for  some  sign  that  his  coming  had  been  an  em- 
barrassing interruption.  He  found  none  at  all,  but 
the  suspicion  lingered.  Out  of  sheer  curiosity  he 
ventured  on  a  remark  that  might  reveal  a  betraying 
word  or  look. 

"  I've  been  hunting  for  information  all  over 
the  house,"  he  said,  "  and  I  can't  get  anybody  that 
will  tell  me  a  thing.  I  never  saw  such  a  tight 
bunch." 

"  Then  you've  come  to  the  original  information 

137 


bureau,"  Colchester  rejoined.  "  What's  the  sub- 
ject?" 

"  Sabrina." 

Bill  watched  them  both  closely,  but  not  so  much 
as  the  flicker  of  an  eyelid  told  that  he  had  hit  any 
mark.  Meredith  continued  his  imperturbable  smok- 
ing, and  Colchester  smiled  amiably. 

"  Merry's  the  man  for  you,"  he  said,  flicking  the 
ashes  off  his  cigarette.  "  He's  supposed  to  know 
all  there  is  for  anybody  but  the  man  to  know  about 
the  lady's  present  state  of  health." 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  looking  for  secrets,"  cried  Bill 
hastily,  with  a  sudden  fear  that  he  had  been  too 
fresh.  "  But  the  minute  I  spoke  of  Sabrina  to  Butt 
Chanler,  he  put  on  a  '  run  away,  little  one,  and  don't 
ask  questions  '  air — you  know  that's  enough  to  make 
anyone  want  to  nose  around." 

"  Sabrina  is  quite  safe,  so  far  as  I  know,"  Mere- 
dith remarked  evenly.  "  You  know  this  is  the  year 
for  the  banquet.  You'll  see  her  if  you  take  it 
in." 

Bill  had  an  uneasy  feeling  that  Meredith  was 
using  seriously  the  "  don't  ask  questions,  little  one," 
attitude  that  Butt  had  been  assuming  in  fun.  Mere- 
dith was  not  like  Colchester.  He  seemed  always 
conscious  of  being  a  senior,  as  if  that  were  a  dis- 
tinction which  others  might  overlook,  and  though 
he  was  always  affable  enough  toward  Bill,  it  was 

138 


FRESHMAN  BURNET  WRITES  A  THEME 

with  an  air  of  unbending  that  came  perilously  near 
being  condescension. 

'*  Well,  I'll  try  to  be  a  good  boy,  and  deserve  the 
honor,"  Bill  could  not  resist  replying,  but  so  amia- 
bly that  only  Colchester  saw  how  little  he  meant 
it.  And  Colchester  immediately  changed  the  sub- 
ject. 

"  They've  got  the  Thanksgiving  trip  all  ar- 
ranged," he  observed.  "  We  start  Wednesday." 

"  What— the  Musical  Clubs?  "  cried  Bill.  "Am 
I  going  to  be  taken  along?  " 

"  Maybe — if  you're  a  good  boy.  And  Butt,  too. 
You're  engaged  right  now  for  Thanksgiving.  We're 
going  out  to  my  town,  you  know,  and  I  want  you  and 
Butt  and  Tommy  to  put  up  with  me." 

"Won't  I  do  that,  though?  Does  Butt  know 
yet?" 

"  Not  unless  he's  seen  Tod  Smith  since  two 
o'clock.  It  wasn't  finally  decided  till  then." 

"  I'll  have  to  be  going  along,"  interrupted  Mere- 
dith, rising  and  reaching  for  his  hat. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Merry!  "  Colchester 
exclaimed.  "  We've  sort  of  got  glee  clubs  and 
mandolin  clubs  on  the  brain  down  here  just  now, 
and  I  forget  other  people  may  be  sensible  enough 
not  to  have.  Don't  hurry  away!  " 

But  Meredith  really  had  to  go,  rather  to  Bill's 
relief. 

139 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  Doesn't  he  ever  loosen  up?"  he  asked  when 
Meredith  was  safely  out  of  the  room. 

"  Oh,  yes.  But  he  keeps  that  as  a  kind  of  spe- 
cial accomplishment  for  his  friends.  He's  done  it 
right  here  in  this  room,  though,  once  or  twice." 

Bill  let  fall  his  jaw  in  mock  amazement. 

"  This  very  room?  I  want  to  know !  But,  Effie, 
don't  tell  Butt  about  the  trip  for  just  a  little  while. 
I  know  how  I  can  worry  him,  and  I  want  to  pay  him 
back  for  the  uppish  way  he's  acted  to  me  all  day." 

"  All  right.  But  Bill "  as  Bill  started  for 

the  door,  "  why  this  sudden  thirst  for  informa- 
tion?" 

Bill  paused  on  the  threshold. 

"  Information?" 

"  Didn't  you  say  you  came  up  here  hunting  for 
information?  " 

"  Oh,  you  mean  about  Sabrina?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh,  Bunny  Burnet  had  me  reading  a  theme  he 
wrote  about  her  this  afternoon  and  it  got  me  inter- 
ested." 

"Oh!" 

And  Bill  went  down  the  hall,  his  mind  busier 
than  ever.  Why  had  Colchester  come  back  to  that 
subject  again? 


CHAPTER  VII 

"  OLD  SLOUCH  "  ON  THE  WARPATH 

T    TEY-AY!    Hold  the  car!" 
lr  Three  yelling  figures  sped  up  the  street  in 

the  wake  of  the  departing  trolley  car,  coats 
flying  open,  suitcases  in  one  hand,  hats  in  the  other. 
Stray  students  along  the  street  took  up  the  cry,  rein- 
forcing it  with  shrill  whistles.  At  the  corner  the 
car  stopped,  and,  hearing  them,  waited  till  they 
tumbled  aboard,  hot  and  panting.  It  was  the  Kappa 
Chi  wing  of  the  Musical  Clubs — except  Gray,  who 
was  always  far-sighted  enough  to  be  on  time — long- 
legged  Bill  in  the  lead,  Butt  next,  loaded  down  with 
a  mandolin  case  in  addition  to  his  other  baggage, 
and  last  of  all  big  Colchester,  whom  Tod  Smith 
helped  up  the  steps  just  as  the  car  started  moving 
again. 

"  If  you  get  out  of  my  sight  on  this  trip  before 
the  last  concert's  over,  I'll  eat  my  new  hat- 
box  !  "  exclaimed  the  anxious  leader.  "  For  once  I'm 
going  to  make  sure  myself  you  don't  miss  any 
trains." 

141 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

"I  never  missed  one  yet,  did  I?"  asked  Col- 
chester mildly,  wiping  his  perspiring  face. 

"  You've  given  me  gray  hairs,  you've  come  so 
near  it  so  many  times.  Get  along  in — there's  a 
freshman  holding  a  seat  for  us  up  ahead,"  and  Tod 
Smith  pushed  his  big  charge  into  the  car.  "  Gee ! 
You  had  me  worried!  "  he  cried,  when  they  were 
seated.  '  You  know  Phil  Sands  squealed  the  last 
minute — or  he  didn't  squeal,  exactly;  the  doctor 
said  there  wasn't  any  use  in  his  coming,  because  he 
couldn't  sing  with  that  bum  throat  of  his — and  you 
know  what  that  second  bass  part  would  sound  like 
without  either  of  you.  Those  new  men  get  scared 
silly  when  there  isn't  anyone  to  lean  on." 

One  of  those  same  new  men,  being  the  freshman 
who  had  held  the  seat  for  them,  flushed  uncomfort- 
ably at  the  remark  he  could  not  help  overhearing. 
Bill,  standing  in  the  aisle  just  alongside,  also  over- 
heard the  remark  and  saw  the  flush,  and  catching 
the  freshman's  eye,  he  winked.  Which  comforted 
the  freshman. 

"  Where've  you  been  all  the  morning?  "  pursued 
Tod  Smith.  "  Merry  has  been  running  his  head  off 
trying  to  find  you,  and  I  telephoned  three  times." 

"  Oh,  everywhere !  I've  been  up  to  the  barber- 
shop for  the  last  hour.  I  had  to  get  one  of  the  fel- 
lows to  pack  my  things  and  bring  'em  uptown,  or 
I'd  never  have  made  this  car." 

142 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

"  Effie,  you're  the  limit!  Oh,  I  forgot!  Merry 
gave  me  something  to  give  you.  Wait  a  minute." 
Smith  began  a  leisurely  search  of  his  pockets,  and 
Bill,  who  still  could  not  help  overhearing,  turned 
his  head  enough  to  watch.  He  had  pondered  much 
over  possible  secret  relations  between  Meredith  and 
Colchester,  and  his  scent  for  clues  was  aroused  and 
alert.  "  Here  it  is,"  said  Smith. 

"  Thanks."  Colchester  took  the  envelope  with 
a  splendid  display  of  carelessness,  though  his  eyes 
darted  quickly  about  him  as  he  put  it  in  his  inside 
pocket.  Everyone  was  apparently  deep  in  affairs 
of  his  own,  including  Bill,  who  was  discussing  the 
weather  with  the  freshman.  "  Merry  knew  I  was 
hard  up,"  Colchester  remarked,  which  evidently  ex- 
plained the  whole  matter. 

The  weather  gave  way  to  other  topics  of  gen- 
eral interest,  and  Bill's  conversation  with  the  fresh- 
man kept  up  till  they  reached  Southboro.  But  Bill 
had  one  ear  open  for  what  went  on  between  the  two 
seniors.  It  was  attention  wasted,  however.  They 
talked  of  the  second  bass  part,  and  the  other  parts, 
and  at  length  of  the  town  they  were  bound  for  and 
a  girl  Tod  Smith  knew  there.  But  not  another  word 
of  Meredith. 

At  the  Southboro  station,  while  they  were  wait- 
ing for  the  train,  Bill,  ever  on  the  watch,  saw  Col- 
chester disappear  around  the  corner  of  the  building. 

H3 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

He  was  gone  only  a  very  short  time,  and  was  back 
again  before  Bill  could  follow  him.  But  after  mak- 
ing sure  that  he  would  not  be  observed,  Bill  also 
went  around  the  corner.  There  on  the  sidewalk 
were  still  a  few  tiny  fragments  of  paper  which 
the  wind  had  not  yet  blown  away,  and  Bill  smiled 
as  he  saw  them.  The  clues  were  pointing  more  and 
more  certainly. 

He  felt  like  smiling  many  times  that  day,  out  of 
sheer  pleasure  at  himself  and  the  way  things  were 
going.  If  he  had  been  required  to  explain  just  how 
things  were  going,  and  what  they  were  going  to- 
ward, and  how  he  knew  it,  anyone  would  have  been 
quite  justified  in  laughing  at  him.  But  he  felt  sat- 
isfied, nevertheless.  And  Butt  had  said  Sabrina 
didn't  ferret  worth  a  cent! 

The  concert  that  night  was  a  small  and  unim- 
portant one,  which  they  all  looked  on  as  nothing 
more  than  a  rehearsal  for  the  Thanksgiving  concert 
in  Stanfield  the  next  evening.  Bill  kept  close  watch 
on  Colchester  all  the  evening,  especially  after  they 
had  gone  to  the  little  hotel  for  the  night,  but  his 
watchfulness  discovered  nothing.  He  did  not  ex- 
pect it  to,  however.  And  he  smiled  again,  for 
on  the  morrow  they  were  going  to  Stanfield! 

Stanfield  was  Colchester's  home  town,  and  Bill, 
Butt,  and  Gray  were  to  be  Colchester's  guests.  It 
ought  to  be  easy  to  keep  a  fairly  constant  eye  on 

144 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

his  host,  and  if  Meredith's  note  and  Effie's  pains  to 
read  it  in  secret  and  then  destroy  it  had  had  any- 
thing at  all  to  do  with  the  goddess  Sabrina,  they 
meant  there  would  be  something  doing  in  Stan- 
field.  And  if  there  was  anything  doing,  Bill  meant 
to  know  about  it. 

He  wanted  badly  to  tell  Butt  of  his  suspicions 
and  let  him  into  the  fun  of  following  them  up,  but 
the  terribly  serious  way  Butt  looked  at  everything 
that  had  to  do  with  Sabrina  made  him  afraid.  Butt 
would  not  see  the  fun  of  it,  he  felt  sure — it  would 
seem  too  much  like  tampering  with  sacred  things — 
and  he  would  be  a  wet-blanket  at  best;  perhaps  he 
would  even  blurt  out  the  whole  business  and  spoil 
everything.  Bill  decided  that  after  all  he  had  better 
keep  his  little  detective  lark  to  himself.  It  was 
safer,  and  besides,  if  it  turned  out  to  be  nothing  but 
a  wild  goose  chase,  Butt  couldn't  laugh  at  him. 

But  it  is  not  altogether  an  easy  matter  to  keep 
tabs  on  one's  host  in  his  own  house,  and  the  fact  that 
Bill  was  naturally  a  respecter  of  the  proprieties  put 
him  at  rather  a  disadvantage  when  it  came  to  sleuth- 
ing. Colchester  and  his  family  exerted  themselves 
so  heartily  to  make  their  guests  feel  at  home 
that  it  gave  him  a  sudden  qualm  of  conscience. 
This  spying  business,  even  in  fun,  might  be  all  right 
back  in  college,  but  to  keep  it  up  here  in  Colchester's 
home  would  be  acting  like  anything  but  a  gentle- 

145 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

man.  The  old  bronze  statue  wasn't  worth  it,  and 
Bill  resolutely  put  the  whole  thing  out  of  his  mind. 

The  Colchesters  made  the  day  a  Thanksgiving 
of  the  regular  old-fashioned  kind.  The  family  was 
large  anyway,  and,  increased  by  the  three  fellows 
from  Tresham  and  Effie's  two  schoolgirl  cousins, 
it  made  a  jolly  houseful.  Dinner  was  a  long  and 
joyous  feast,  and  after  it  they  played  kid-games,  till 
dusk  began  to  fall  and  it  was  time  to  dress  for  the 
evening. 

Not  till  they  had  started  upstairs  did  Bill  notice 
that  Colchester  had  disappeared,  and  the  thoughts 
he  had  so  firmly  banished  from  his  mind  came  pop- 
ping back.  They  popped  back  to  stay  when  he  got 
upstairs  in  the  room  where  he  and  Butt  were  to 
sleep.  He  happened  to  glance  out  one  of  the  win- 
dows, which  looked  upon  the  huge  barn  that  was  at 
the  back  of  the  house,  and  he  glanced  just  in  time 
to  see  Colchester  closing  the  barn  door.  He  locked 
it  and  came  toward  the  house.  In  his  hand  he  car- 
ried a  hammer. 

The  sight  of  that  hammer  was  to  Bill  like  the 
scent  of  blood  to  a  bloodhound.  It  was  perfectly 
clear  to  him  now.  Sabrina  was  in  that  barn,  nailed 
up  in  a  box  probably,  and  Colchester  had  been 
paying  her  a  visit!  Why,  he  did  not  stop  to  think, 
but  he  felt  sure  she  was  there.  His  face  flushed 
with  excitement,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  as  they  stared 

146 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

out  the  window.  He  was  so  close,  and  he  was  so 
sure! 

"  What  are  you  looking  at?  "  came  Butt's  voice 
behind  him.  Bill  started  and  laughed  nervously. 

"  A  barn,  and  some  trees,  and — and  I  think  I 
see  some  more  trees  back  of  the  barn,"  he  answered, 
turning  abruptly  from  the  window. 

"  Exciting  sight.  See  if  you  can't  fix  this  tie  for 
me,  won't  you  ?  One  end  of  it  wants  to  twist  up,  and 
I  can't  make  it  stay  down." 

Bill  tackled  the  tie,  his  thoughts  still  on  the  barn 
and  the  secret  it  held. 

"Come  on,  Bill!  Wake  up,  can't  you?"  Butt 
exclaimed.  "  You  won't  be  ready  for  supper." 

"  Oh,  Lord!  Have  we  got  to  eat  again?  I  had 
enough  dinner  to  last  me  a  week." 

"  Sure — and  we've  got  to  look  out  for  Effie's 
cousins." 

"  Thunder !  I'd  forgotten  all  about  the  cousins. 
Light  the  light,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  were  making  quite  a  hit 
with  them."  Butt  lighted  the  lamp  and  sat  down 
to  wait.  He  was  all  ready  himself. 

"  I  made  a  hit  by  leaving  them  to  you  and 
Tommy."  Bill  was  burying  into  his  clothes  now, 
and  losing  time  by  it.  "  Where's  that  new  collar 
I  got  this  morning?  " 

"  'Most  dressed?  "  came  Colchester's  voice  from 

147 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

the  doorway.  "  Golly,  I've  got  to  hurry  up.  I  was 
fooling  around  out  in  the  barn  and  I  clean  forgot 
about  dressing  for  supper.  Don't  wait  for  me.  Go 
right  down  as  soon  as  you're  ready." 

They  found  Gray  already  there  when  they  got 
downstairs,  with  the  two  cousins.  Bill  claimed  to 
have  a  horror  of  girls,  and  he  had  successfully  man- 
aged to  keep  at  a  comfortable  distance  from  them 
so  far  to-day,  with  some  one  else  always  around  so 
that  it  never  became  necessary  for  him  to  make  con- 
versation all  by  himself.  But  now  Butt  and  Gray 
deliberately  monopolized  the  older  cousin,  leaving 
him  to  get  along  with  Mildred  the  best  he  could. 
Mildred  was  very  young  and  apparently  very  shy, 
which  did  not  help,  but  Bill  set  himself  to  talk  to 
her. 

"  I  suppose  we're  going  to  have  a  big  time 
to-night,  with  all  the  dancing  and  all  that,"  he 
said  politely.  "  Have  you  ever  heard  the  clubs  be- 
fore? " 

"  No,"  she  answered,  and  conversation  lan- 
guished while  Bill  racked  his  brain  for  another 
remark. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  Tresham?  "  he  asked 
at  length. 

"  No,"  she  answered  again.  "  But  Gladys  has," 
she  added  after  a  pause. 

Bill  could  hear  Gladys  laughing  and  talking  on 
148 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

the  other  side  of  the  room.     He  wished  Mildred 
were  as  easy  to  entertain. 

"  Did  she  like  it?  "  he  pursued. 

"  Oh,  she  loved  it !  "  Mildred  grew  suddenly 
enthusiastic.  "  Please,  Mr.  Bill,  won't  you  tell 
me  about  the  things  they  do  at  college?  I  think 
they're  such  fun.  I  love  to  hear  Frank  tell  about 
them." 

"Frank?"  repeated  Bill. 

She  laughed  shyly. 

"  Oh,  you  all  call  him  Effie.  I  suppose  it  sounds 
funny  to  hear  him  called  Frank." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  catch  on  to  who  you  meant  for 
a  minute.  '  Frank  '  does  sound  funny.  I  guess  he 
must  have  told  you  about  most  of  the  things." 

"Oh,  I  know  he  hasn't!" 

"  Well,  we  get  up  in  the  morning,  and  we  go  to 
chapel,  then  we  go  to  recitations,  if  we  have  any,  and 
if  we  don't  we  study,  and  then  we  eat  and  then  go 
to  some  more  recitations  and  study  some  more 
and " 

"  You're  just  making  fun  of  me !  " 

"  No,  I'm  not,  honestly !  Those  are  the  things 
we  do  every  day." 

"  But  they're  not  the  nice  things !  Tell  me  about 
the  things  they  do  to  freshmen,  the  hazing,  you 
know,  and  all  the  other  stunts,  and  Sabrina." 

"  But  those  things  come  only  once  in  a  while. 
11  149 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

Most  of  the  time  we  just  jog  along,  and  not  much 
of  anything  happens,  just  like  anywhere  else." 

"  I  don't  believe  it!  Frank  tells  me  the  loveliest 
things,  and  they're  not  a  bit  like  anywhere  else." 

"  I  told  you  he  hadn't  left  me  anything  to  tell 
about.  I  suppose  you  know  all  about  Sabrina,  for 
instance." 

"  Oh,  not  nearly!    Are  you  a  Sabrina  man?  " 
'  Yes;  but  I  haven't  seen  her  yet." 

"  Aren't  you  just  dying  to?  Frank  told  me  all 
about  the  time  he  did.  They  went  to  New  York, 
you  know.  And  now  she's  hidden  away  again,  and 
nobody  knows  where  she  is,  not  a  soul !  " 

Mildred's  pretty  enthusiasm  tempted  Bill  to 
tease  her. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  even  Effie — I  mean  Frank 
— knows  ?  " 

"  Frank?  Mercy,  no!  If  he  had  her  he'd  for- 
get where  he  put  her,  or  else  he'd  forget  and  tell 
somebody  who  hadn't  any  business  to  know,  and 
that  would  be  even  worse.  I  guess  you  don't  know 
Frank  very  well  or  you'd  never  have  thought  of 
such  a  thing." 

"  If  nobody  ever  thought  of  such  a  thing,  he'd 
be  about  the  safest  person  to  really  know  about 
her,"  said  Bill  earnestly,  forgetting  that  he  had 
started  in  fun.  "  Don't  you  think  so?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Bill,  that's  so,  isn't  it?     I  wonder 
150 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

if  he  really  is  the  man?  I'm  going  to  ask  him  this 
very  night." 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't!  "  Bill  realized  in  sudden  dis- 
may that  he  had  probably  been  talking  too  much. 
"  Of  course  he  isn't !  " 

But  Miss  Mildred  was  not  to  be  thrown  off. 

"  But  he  may  be !  Wouldn't  it  be  fun  if  he  was? 
Oh,  Frank — "  she  had  caught  sight  of  Colchester 
coming  down  the  hall  stairs  and  was  out  to  meet 
him  before  Bill  could  utter  another  word  of  pro- 
test. "  Do  you  know  where  Sabrina  is  hidden?  " 

The  others  were  attracted  by  her  eager  question, 
and  everyone  looked  at  her  as  she  stood  in  the  door- 
way, catching  Colchester  by  the  lapels  of  his  coat 
and  looking  excitedly  up  into  his  face. 

Colchester's  eye  moved  quickly  around  the  room, 
stopped  an  instant  on  Bill,  who  stood  up,  red  and 
uneasy,  and  then  rested  on  his  small  cousin. 

"  I  ?  "  he  said,  smiling.  "  Why,  nobody  knows 
where  she  is  hidden.  She  is  a  fairy,  a  goddess,  and 
she  flies  here  and  there,  wherever  she  will,  and  no 
man  can  tell  where  she  is  going  to  turn  up  next." 

"  Nonsense,  Frank !  She's  nothing  but  a  heavy 
old  statue,  and  she  can't  fly  any  more  than  you  can. 
She's  hidden  somewhere,  and  somebody  knows 
where.  Aren't  you  that  somebody — Honest  In- 
jun? " 

Butt  and  Gray  seemed  to  think  it  was  a  ver)5 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

good  joke,  but  Bill  thought  there  was  a  note  of 
constraint  in  Colchester's  laugh. 

"  Of  course  not!  What  put  such  a  crazy  idea 
into  your  head,  Pussy-cat?" 

"  I  think  it's  a  very  good  idea,  and  Mr.  Bill  put 
it  into  my  head.  He  thinks  you'd  be  just  the  man 
to  take  care  of  her,  because  nobody  would  ever 
think  you  could  do  it." 

The  others  laughed  louder  than  ever,  and  Bill 
saw  a  momentary  gleam  in  Colchester's  eye  that 
must  have  meant  something,  but  whether  anger,  or 
amusement,  or  what,  he  could  not  tell. 

11  That's  a  sort  of  double-edged  compliment," 
Colchester  said  smiling.  "  I'm  glad  you  aren't 
Meredith,  Bill.  I'd  appreciate  the  honor  of  being 
her  ladyship's  guardian,  but  it  would  be  an  awful 
lot  of  trouble." 

Bill  could  think  of  nothing  to  say.  He  felt 
that  while  the  others  had  been  laughing  and  think- 
ing it  was  all  a  joke,  between  him  and  Colchester 
had  been  a  silent  battle  of  eyes,  an  unspoken  chal- 
lenge and  defiance  that  no  one  else  in  the  room 
knew  of.  He  was  surer  than  ever  now  that  he  was 
right.  Colchester  knew  where  Sabrina  was,  for  all 
his  careless  fibbing.  But  to  have  him  know  that  he 
knew  it — that  spoiled  all  the  fun  and  brought  a  ser- 
iousness into  the  game  that  meant  the  game  must 
be  dropped.  It  was  no  longer  just  amusement. 

152 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

"  I  should  think  you  would  find  her,  Mr.  Bill," 
said  Gladys,  and  Bill  longed  to  flee  from  the  room. 
He  felt  a  tension  in  the  atmosphere  that  Colchester's 
serene  smile  only  emphasized.  If  these  girls  would 
only  stop  talking  about  it,  or  at  least  leave  him  out 
of  their  talk!  "Mr.  Chanler  has  just  been  tell- 
ing what  a  wonderful  detective  you  are,  and  Sabrina 
would  be  a  lovely  thing  to  get  on  the  track  of." 

"  Bill's  a  Sabrina  man  himself,"  remarked  Col- 
chester, and  though  he  spoke  to  his  cousin,  his  eyes 
were  on  Bill.  "  He  wouldn't  have  any  object  in 
tracking  down  Sabrina." 

"  I  suppose  not,  but  it  would  be  such  fun !  Can't 
you  tell  me  something  about  me,  Mr.  Bill, — like 
those  clever  things  you  tell  about  the  other  men  by 
just  looking  at  them?  " 

Bill  smiled  uneasily,  though  rather  relieved  that 
Sabrina  seemed  to  be  dropping  out  of  the  con- 
versation. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't.  You  see,  the  only  things 
I  ever  hit  on  are  rather  queer,  and  I  hit  on  them 
just  because  they  are  that.  There  isn't  anything 
queer  about  you." 

"Good  work,  Bill!"  cried  Butt  with  a  laugh. 
"  You'll  make  a  lady's  man  yet." 

"  Oh,  that's  very  nice,  but  I  think  you're  dodg- 
ing," said  Gladys,  blushing  prettily.  But  Mrs.  Col- 
chester appeared  at  that  moment  and  saved  him  the 

153 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

necessity  of  dodging  any  more  by  marshaling  the 
whole  company  off  to  the  dining  room. 

All  Stanfield,  apparently,  had  turned  out  for 
the  concert  that  night,  and  when  the  Colchester 
party  arrived  at  the  hall  it  was  nearly  time  to  be- 
gin. The  clubs  had  collected  under  the  stage,  in  a 
little  room  that  seethed  with  preparation  and  ex- 
citement. To-night  was  the  first  really  important 
concert  of  the  year,  and  the  big  crowd  that  was 
pouring  in  upstairs  created  a  nervous  eagerness 
that  put  everything  into  a  turmoil.  Above  the  din 
of  banjoes  and  mandolins  being  tuned  Tod  Smith 
was  vainly  trying  to  call  the  Glee  Club  together. 

"  Effie,  for  the  Lord's  sake,  help  me  round  up 
these  men !  "  he  cried  in  despair.  "  I've  been  bark- 
ing away  for  the  last  five  minutes,  and  I  can't 
make  a  soul  hear  in  this  racket.  I  want  to  run  over 
the  first  song." 

Together  they  coraled  the  Glee  Club  in  a  cor- 
ner and  Smith  lined  them  up. 

"  Now  see  if  you  can't  get  into  this  and  put 
some  life  into  it  without  yelling  your  heads  off," 
he  said  sharply,  for  he  had  dropped  his  pitch  pipe 
and  had  to  chase  it  under  a  settee,  which  roughened 
his  temper.  "  We've  got  a  good  house  upstairs 
and  we've  got  to  show  'em.  Don't  get  scared. 
There's  nothing  to  be  nervous  about.  Walk  out 
as  if  you  were  enjoying  it,  and  not  stand  there 

154 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

like  a  lot  of  funerals.  And  for  Heaven's  sake, 
keep  on  the  pitch !  " 

He  blew  a  blast  on  his  pitch  pipe  and  waited  till 
each  one  had  his  note.  Then  with  a  vigorous  nod 
of  his  head  he  started  them  going. 

"  Oh,  Lord!  Not  so  loud!  "  he  shouted,  throw- 
ing up  his  hands.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  not  to  yell? 
They  can  hear  you  all  over  the  house.  Hum  it !  " 

"  Ready,  Tod?  "  called  the  manager,  sticking 
his  head  in  at  the  door.  "  We're  five  minutes  late 
already." 

"  Shut  that  door!  Yes,  we're  ready  if  the  rest 
are.  You  fellows  get  down  here  as  soon  as  the  first 
ensemble  is  over.  You're  rotten  on  that  song! 
Hurry  up,  now!  " 

Tod  Smith  was  plainly  the  most  nervous  one 
of  all,  which  did  not  have  a  cheering  effect  on  the 
new  men,  for  whom  this  night's  performance  was 
more  or  less  of  a  debut.  But  the  opening  ensemble 
went  off  with  a  dash  that  restored  confidence,  the 
second  attempt  to  rehearse  the  song  was  more  suc- 
cessful, and  when  they  actually  appeared  before 
the  audience  Colchester  and  the  other  old-timers 
swung  the  thing  through  with  a  vim  that  carried 
it  in  spite  of  some  wavering  in  the  back  row.  At 
the  end  Tod  Smith  came  off  the  stage  with  cold 
sweat  on  his  brow,  but  smiling. 

"  That's  an  encore   all  right !  "   he  whispered 

155 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

loudly,  standing  in  the  wing  to  measure  the  ap- 
plause. "  Now  loosen  up  on  this — smile  a  little. 
They  like  it  if  you  look  silly:  only  don't  look  like 
a  lot  of  dead  ones.  Go  on,  Effie!  "  And  Effie  led 
them  forth  upon  the  stage  again. 

Having  started  well,  it  was  easy  to  grow  better, 
and  the  audience  was  enthusiastic  enough  to  spur 
them  on  to  the  best  that  was  in  them.  Bill  knew  the 
people  liked  it.  He  could  see  Mildred  and  her 
sister  well  up  toward  the  front,  beaming  upon  their 
big  cousin,  who  was  to  them  the  hero  of  them  all. 
But  Bill's  thoughts  kept  straying  away  from  the 
concert,  for  when  the  club  had  scattered  after  their 
first  number  Colchester  had  drawn  him  aside  and 
asked  him  a  question. 

"  Why  have  you  been  harping  so  much  on  Sa- 
brina  the  last  two  or  three  days  ?  " 

And  Bill  had  answered  truthfully  enough: 

"  I  didn't  know  I  had  been,  especially.  But 
if  I  have  it's  because  I've  just  begun  to  really 
know  something  about  her,  and  I  got  interested." 

"  Well,"  Colchester's  deep  voice  had  grown 
deeper  and  his  face  was  very  serious,  "  remember 
you're  a  Sabrina  man.  You've  been  in  Tresham 
long  enough  to  know  that  means  we  stand  together. 
And  you  know  what  standing  together  means." 

Bill  thought  he  saw  several  "  meanings "  in 
that  remark.  First  of  all,  there  really  was  founda- 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

tion  for  his  suspicions.  Second,  Colchester  sus- 
pected that  he  had  suspicions.  But  more  than  that, 
Colchester  was  evidently  distrustful,  so  distrust- 
ful that  he  thought  it  necessary  to  speak  a  word 
of  warning.  Bill  grew  hot  as  he  realized  that. 
Colchester  thought  he  did  not  understand  the  Sa- 
brina  loyalty — that  he  might  betray  something  if 
he  knew  anything  to  betray!  As  that  thought 
flashed  upon  him  Bill  rushed  from  where  he  stood 
to  find  Colchester  and  protest.  It  wasn't  fair.  It 
wronged  him  terribly!  But  Colchester  had  dis- 
appeared. He  was  out  in  the  audience,  mingling 
with  his  fellow-townsmen  and  gathering  in  compli- 
ments to  repeat  to  Tod  Smith.  So  Bill  found  no 
chance  to  speak  to  him  again  while  his  impulse  was 
hot  to  do  so.  After  he  had  thought  about  it  a 
little  more  he  decided  that  it  wasn't  worth  bring- 
ing up  again  anyway;  protests  didn't  amount  to 
much. 

Tod  Smith  was  entirely  pleased  with  the  way 
things  were  going.  His  nervousness  was  gone  now 
and  instead  of  belaboring  his  songsters,  he  beamed 
and  smiled  upon  them  perpetually.  To-night  had 
been  a  crucial  time  with  him.  It  was  the  first  real 
test  of  his  leadership,  and  the  men  he  had  been 
training  for  the  last  two  months  were  being  a  credit 
to  him. 

But  the  applause  lured  him  to  disaster.  He 
157 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

could  not  resist  it,  even  when  they  had  exhausted 
all  the  encores  they  had  practiced  on,  and  toward 
the  end  of  the  concert,  when  they  had  finished  the 
last  Glee  Club  number  and  the  audience  still  clapped 
for  more,  he  signaled  still  again  to  go  back  on  the 
stage. 

"  We'll  give  'em  '  Schneider's  Band,'  "  he  whis- 
pered. "  Go  on,  Effie." 

"  But  we  don't  know  it !  "  protested  a  fresh- 
man, the  freshman  who  sang  second  bass  and  had 
the  reputation  of  getting  "  scared  silly." 

"  S-sh!  you  don't  need  to  tell  the  audience  about 
it!  If  you  don't  know  it  make  your  mouth  go 
and  keep  still.  The  old  men  can  sing  it.  Here's 
the  pitch.  Go  on,  now.  They  won't  stop  clapping 
till  we  do.  Go  on,  Effie !  " 

Effie  went  on,  the  others  uneasily  following,  and 
the  banjo  and  mandolin  men,  who  had  gathered  in 
the  wings  ready  for  the  last  ensemble,  looked  on 
and  grinned.  Their  time  of  anxiety  was  over,  and 
it  pleased  them  greatly  to  gloat  over  their  sing- 
ing rivals  at  this  ticklish  juncture. 

It  was  an  old  song  the  Club  had  sung  often 
in  years  past,  but  they  had  not  tried  it  this  fall 
and  the  number  of  green  men  on  the  club  was  un- 
usually large.  This  suddenly  came  over  Smith  in 
a  sickening  flash  as  he  stood  watching  them  troop 
forth,  but  it  was  too  late  to  back  out  now:  most  of 

158 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

them  were  already  on  the  stage.  During  the  two 
seconds  that  it  took  to  walk  out  to  his  place  he 
almost  prayed,  then  with  a  feverish  look  in  his 
eye  he  nodded  for  the  second  bass  to  begin. 
Colchester,  being  the  only  second  bass  who 
knew  the  part,  began  the  introduction  alone  —  a 
gentle  "  Pom-pom !  Pom-pom !  " — and  some  one 
down  in  the  audience  began  to  giggle.  Some  one 
in  the  audience  usually  did  giggle  when  they  sang 
this  song,  but  in  his  present  state  of  tension  Tod 
Smith  forgot  that.  He  felt  sure  something  was 
wrong,  and  his  uneasiness  spread  to  the  others,  while 
Colchester  kept  up  his  rhythmic  "  Pom-poming  "  all 
by  himself,  with  no  one  else  joining  in.  More  of 
the  audience  were  giggling  now,  and  out  of  the 
corner  of  his  desperate  eye  Smith  could  see  grinning, 
jeering  faces  in  the  wings.  It  would  be  a  regular 
circus  to  those  others  to  see  the  Glee  Club  go  up  in 
the  air! 

Then  he  realized  what  was  the  matter.  One 
man  had  always  started  the  verse  as  a  solo,  be- 
cause it  had  to  begin  so  softly,  and  that  man  was 
Phil  Sands — back  home  now,  with  the  bum  throat. 
In  desperation  Smith  plunged  into  the  thing  him- 
self, though  his  tenor  voice  was  almost  lost  on 
those  low  notes. 

*'  Soldiers  marching  up  the  street, 
To  music  grand,  on  every  hand — " 

159 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

Then  others  who  knew  it  joined  in,  and  it  began  to 
move,  but  Smith  knew  his  knees  were  shaking.  He 
stiffened  his  legs  to  stop  them,  while  his  head  bobbed 
vigorously  as  a  sign  to  sing  louder. 

But  suddenly  the  audience  was  laughing  again,  a 
ripple  that  spread  and  grew  until  it  filled  the  hall. 
Smith  felt  a  cold  sweat  breaking  out  all  over  him. 
What  in  pity's  name  was  the  matter  now?  The 
first  panic  was  over  and  the  song  seemed  to  be  going 
all  right,  but  there  was  a  joke  somewhere.  As  he 
looked  at  the  other  men  their  faces  reflected  a  look 
of  amazement  as  blank  as  his  own.  Then  as  they 
swung  into  the  loud 

"  Hear  them  !      The  people  cheer  them  !  " 

he  almost  jumped  at  the  sudden  volume  of  sound 
that  broke  out  from  behind.  One  lightning  glance 
showed  him  the  banjo  and  mandolin  men  parading 
across  the  back  of  the  stage  in  military  file,  holding 
their  instruments  before  them  like  drums,  upon 
which  they  beat  in  pantomime,  and  joining  lustily 
in  the  song,  with  plenty  of  noise  and  a  serene  dis- 
regard of  the  words. 

The  pallor  on  Smith's  face  gave  way  to  a  burn- 
ing flush,  and  with  an  angry  jerk  of  his  head  he 
commanded  all  eyes  to  the  front.  But  he  knew 
those  figures  were  still  going  through  their  ridicu- 
lous maneuvers  though  they  had  stopped  singing. 

1 60 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

He  could  see  the  audience  watching  them.  Then  as 
the  song  softened  down  toward  the  end  they  came 
tip-toeing  stealthily  out  in  front,  a  chair  in  one  hand, 
a  mandolin  or  banjo  in  the  other,  and  at  the  last 
faint  note  they  were  all  seated,  instruments  ready 
and  hands  poised.  At  the  final  bob  of  Tod  Smith's 
head  they  broke  into  the  introduction  of  the  closing 
ensemble  before  the  audience  had  a  chance  for  a 
single  clap  of  applause. 

When  it  was  over  Bill  made  for  the  outside 
door  to  snatch  a  smoke  before  the  dancing  began. 
He  could  hear  the  thunder  of  Tod  Smith's  wrath 
behind  him — he,  had  been  made  a  goat  of,  and  he 
was  going  to  resign — he  wouldn't  belong  to  such 
an  aggregation  of  infants — it  was  no  way  to  treat 
the  leader  of  the  Glee  Club  and  the  president  of 
the  organization.  Bill  smiled  at  his  sputtering,  and 
smiled  more  broadly  as  he  looked  back  over  his 
shoulder  and  saw  Smith  of  a  sudden  lean  limply 
against  the  wall  and  bend  double  with  hysterical 
laughter. 

Bill  lighted  a  cigarette  and  strolled  out  into 
the  street.  The  air  was  chill,  with  the  raw  chill 
of  November,  and  gray  clouds  covered  the  sky,  but 
it  was  refreshing  after  the  heat  of  indoors.  The 
street  was  deserted,  for  all  of  Stanfield  that  was 
not  abed  was  in  the  town-hall,  waiting  now  for 
the  seats  to  be  shoved  back  from  the  floor  so  they 

161 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

could  dance.  Bill  was  not  very  keen  about  the  danc- 
ing, and  he  prolonged  his  stroll,  and  turned  a  cor- 
ner into  the  main  street.  He  finished  one  cigarette 
and  went  into  a  dark  doorway  where  the  wind 
did  not  blow  to  light  another.  Just  as  he  was 
about  to  strike  the  match  he  heard  hurrying  foot- 
steps coming  along  the  sidewalk,  and  almost  im- 
mediately a  tall  figure  hastened  by.  It  was  too 
dark  to  distinguish  the  face,  but  the  man  was  hatless 
and  coatless,  and  the  white  of  his  shirt  bosom 
showed  dimly  as  he  passed.  Bill  started.  He 
knew  that  figure.  It  was  Colchester!  The  suspi- 
cion of  secret  doings,  that  had  recurred  to  him 
more  than  once  that  day,  seized  him  again.  He 
stepped  out  of  the  shadow  and  followed. 

Colchester  passed  under  a  street  lamp,  and 
suddenly  turned  into  the  only  lighted  place  on  that 
side  of  the  street.  Bill  went  near  enough  to  see 
that  it  was  the  telegraph  office,  and  then  stopped, 
his  heart  thumping  excitedly. 

"  I'm  right!  I'm  right!  "  went  singing  through 
his  brain.  "  She's  here — here  in  Effie's  barn!  " 

Then  he  turned  abruptly  and  ran  back.  There 
must  be  something  doing — perhaps  they  were  tak- 
ing her  away!  As  he  ran  he  tried  to  plan  how 
he  could  see  her,  for  see  her  he  would,  some  way,  be- 
fore she  was  gone.  He  did  not  stop  running  till 
he  was  back  at  the  hall. 

162 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

The  dancing  had  begun  and  Bill  thought  he 
could  steal  in,  find  his  hat  and  coat,  and  get  away 
again  without  being  noticed.  He  had  already 
formed  a  rather  vague  plan  of  going  back  to  Col- 
chester's house  and  getting  into  the  barn — a  pro- 
ceeding which  in  the  excitement  of  the  chase  did 
not  seem  at  all  a  questionable  thing  to  do.  The 
only  thing  he  could  think  of  was  that  here  was  a 
chance,  perhaps,  of  doing  what  no  man  had  ever 
done  before — of  seeing  Sabrina  in  her  hiding  place. 
He  wanted  nothing  more  than  that.  He  wouldn't 
even  tell  anyone  about  it,  at  least  for  quite  a  while; 
but  to  succeed  where  others  had  continually  failed 
for  years  and  years — it  set  his  pulse  to  pounding 
madly. 

But  getting  away  was  not  so  simple.  There 
were  three  or  four  fellows  in  the  room  where  his 
things  were,  Gray  among  them,  and  Gray  hailed 
him. 

"  The  small  cousin  is  looking  for  you,  Bill," 
he  said.  "  She  has  an  idea  you're  going  to  dance 
with  her." 

"  Thunder,  Tommy !  I  don't  want  to  dance !  I 
can't  dance  anyway!  " 

"Well,  go  and  talk  to  her  then.  I  told  her 
I'd  find  you  for  her." 

Bill  sighed  resignedly  and  made  for  the  hall. 
The  small  cousin  was  plainly  waiting  for  him. 

163 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Bill,  it  was  perfectly  splendid!  "  she 
cried.  For  some  reason  she  seemed  to  have  picked 
out  Bill  from  the  trio  of  Effie's  guests  to  be  her 
particular  friend.  At  any  rate,  toward  him  her 
earlier  shyness  had  completely  vanished,  and  she 
smiled  radiantly  at  him  as  he  sat  down  beside  her. 
"  Now  you're  going  to  ask  me  to  dance  with  you, 
aren't  you?  "  she  inquired  frankly. 

"  Sure;  only  if  you  say  c  yes  '  I'm  afraid  you'll 
be  sorry.  I'm  not  much  of  a  dancer." 

"  I  think  you're  joking.  I'm  going  to  say  '  yes  ' 
anyway.  I'm  just  crazy  about  dancing." 

"  Come  on,  then  I  But  you  don't  know  how 
courageous  you  are.  What  is  this — a  two-step?  " 

"Stupid!  It's  a  waltz,  and  you  knew  it  all 
the  time  I  " 

Whether  he  had  been  joking  or  not,  Bill  man- 
aged to  put  up  a  pretty  miserable  exhibition  of 
waltzing.  The  small  cousin  bit  her  lip  and  looked 
up  at  him  with  a  suspicious  eye,  but  he  seemed  to 
be  trying  so  hard  and  was  so  in  earnest  in  his 
failures  not  to  bump  into  people  that  she  finally  took 
pity  on  him  and  stopped  it. 

"  I  told  you,"  he  said  apologetically.  "  I  can't 
ever  make  my  feet  go  where  they  ought  to  go." 

"  Never  mind,  we  can  talk.  The  music  is  stop- 
ping anyway."  So  they  sat  down  and  started  to  talk, 
while  Bill  was  consumed  with  a  most  impolite  de- 

164 


"OLD  SLOUCH  "  ON  THE  WARPATH 

sire  to  get  up  and  run  away.  "  Oh,  there's  Mr. 
Chanler!  We  have  the  next  dance  together.  Do 
you  know,  I'm  frightened  to  death  I'll  call  him 
'  Butt '  some  time.  It's  the  loveliest  name  for  him. 
Don't  you  think  he's  cute?" 

Bill  laughed.  "  Just  say  that  to  Butt  and  he'll 
hate  you  for  life.  I  think  Butt  wouldn't  mind 
being  hanged  if  it  would  only  stretch  him  out  and 
make  him  six  inches  taller.  He's  terribly  sensi- 
tive about  being  so  little."  .f 

"  Oh,  I  won't  say  anything  about  it  to  him!  "  she 
said  earnestly. 

"Hello,  Butt!  I've  been  giving  Miss  Col- 
chester an  awful  time.  It's  up  to  you  to  make  up 
for  it." 

"  It  wasn't  awful  at  all,"  she  protested,  rising 
as  the  music  started.  "  It  is  hard  to  dance  here, 
there's  such  a  crowd." 

Bill  did  not  wait  to  dispute  with  her,  he  rushed 
precipitately  for  the  dressing  room  and  thanked 
his  stars  there  was  no  one  there  to  detain  him  fur- 
ther. He  grabbed  his  coat  and  hat  and  hurried 
out,  putting  them  on  as  he  went. 

The  Colchesters  lived  over  a  mile  from  the 
center  of  the  town.  Bill  found  there  was  a  light  in 
the  house,  but  the  barn  was  dark  and  deserted.  It 
stood  some  distance  from  the  house,  and  he  circled 
it  carefully,  looking  for  some  way  to  get  in,  but 
12  165 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

he  did  not  dare  strike  a  match  and  it  was  slow  work. 
The  big  front  door  was  securely  fastened,  as  well 
as  all  the  windows,  but  at  length,  after  stumbling 
around  in  a  sort  of  carriage-shed  built  alongside, 
he  ventured  to  strike  a  light  and  discovered  a 
ladder.  With  great  care  he  dragged  it  out,  making 
no  noise  at  all,  and  set  it  up  against  a  door  on 
the  second  floor — the  door  through  which  the  hay 
was  pitched.  After  climbing  up  he  found  this,  too, 
was  locked,  but  near  it  was  a  window  that  stuck 
and  squeaked,  but  finally  yielded  to  his  pushing. 
He  looked  about  once  more  at  the  quiet  house,  and 
climbed  in. 

He  lighted  another  match  and  peered  around. 
He  was  in  what  had  apparently  once  been  used 
for  the  stableman's  bedroom,  and  Bill  had  a  sud- 
den fear  that  there  might  be  a  stableman  in  the 
barn  even  now.  But  he  could  not  remember  having 
seen  one  during  the  day:  he  even  remembered  that 
Effie  had  said  something  about  their  having  to  walk 
to  town  because  the  stable  was  out  of  commission. 
Anyway,  he  was  not  going  to  back  out  now  for 
anything  short  of  an  armed  resistance. 

There  was  a  cot  bed  along  the  wall,  and  on  a 
shelf,  with  a  looking-glass  and  an  old  hair  brush, 
a  dusty  stable  lantern.  He  pounced  upon  it  and 
shook  it — there  was  still  oil  in  itl  In  an  instant 
he  had  it  lighted  and  was  out  of  the  room. 

166 


He  sprang  back,   screening  the  lantern  with  his  coat." 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

He  found  himself  in  a  large  hay  loft,  where 
huge  shadows  swelled  and  towered  at  each  swing 
of  the  lantern.  The  thick  smell  of  hay  filled  his 
nostrils,  and  every  footstep  stirred  up  a  flurry  of 
dust  that  set  him  coughing.  There  seemed  to  be 
hay  everywhere,  great  stacks  of  it  on  each  side  of 
him,  piled  up  to  the  roof,  and  between,  an  empty 
alleyway  down  which  he  now  moved  cautiously, 
holding  the  lantern  at  arm's  length. 

He  realized  his  search  would  be  hopeless  if  the 
statue  was  hidden  up  here.  It  might  be  buried  any- 
where in  that  mass  of  hay.  In  the  short  time  that 
he  had,  he  might  as  well  be  hunting  for  a  needle. 

Suddenly  he  stopped,  on  the  verge  of  a  yawning 
hole  directly  in  his  path.  For  a  moment  it  startled 
him;  then  he  saw  that  it  must  be  the  place  where 
they  pitched  the  hay  into  the  stalls.  As  he  peered 
down,  trying  to  direct  the  light  so  that  he  could  see 
what  was  below,  a  heavy  sound  startled  him.  He 
sprang  back,  screening  the  lantern  with  his  coat.  He 
listened,  a  thrill  quivering  up  and  down  his  spine.  It 
came  again,  a  hollow,  shivery  sound  as  of  some 
one  striking  heavily  upon  wood.  A  terror  of  some- 
thing unknown  seized  him,  and  he  frantically 
wrapped  the  lantern  in  his  coat  to  shut  out  every 
ray  of  light. 

Then  he  broke  into  a  nervous  laugh.  It  was 
only  a  horse  downstairs!  The  light  had  probably 

167 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

disturbed  it,  and  the  sound  was  its  foot  striking  on 
the  floor.  Bill  wiped  the  sweat  from  his  forehead 
with  the  back  of  his  hand  and  moved  on.  He 
would  look  downstairs. 

At  length  he  found  the  way  down.  The  light 
caused  some  more  commotion,  but  Bill  paid  no  fur- 
ther attention  to  it.  There  was  only  one  horse: 
the  other  stalls  were  either  empty  or  filled  with 
rubbish. 

He  looked  carefully  everywhere  else  and  came 
back  to  the  stalls.  If  it  wasn't  upstairs,  under  the 
hay,  it  must  be  here,  and  if  it  wasn't  here  he 
couldn't  find  it.  He  stopped  to  listen  for  a  moment. 
With  all  his  caution  and  slow  progress  he  had  been 
over  an  hour.  It  must  be  almost  time  for  the 
others  to  be  coming  home.  Well,  let  them  come. 
He  hung  the  lantern  on  a  hook  and  began  his  search. 

The  first  stall  revealed  nothing  but  a  lot  of 
farm  tools  and  behind  them  some  old,  discarded 
furniture,  and  he  went  on  to  the  next.  At  the 
first  glance  his  heart  leaped.  It  contained  a  lot  of 
boxes,  and  one  bigger  than  the  rest  with  a  piece 
of  old  carpet  thrown  over  it.  He  grabbed  off 
the  covering  and  took  down  the  lantern  to  look 
closer. 

The  box  must  have  been  put  there  lately,  for 
it  was  not  packed  in  like  the  others.  Eagerly  he 
bent  over  it,  measuring  it  with  his  eye.  It  seemed  to 

168 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

be  the  right  size.  It  was  much  scratched  and  battered, 
as  if  it  had  traveled  far.  There  were  iron  bands 
around  it,  and  one  side,  partly  wedged  in  among 
the  other  boxes,  was  screwed  on.  On  the  front  were 
big  smears  of  paint,  as  if  some  old  lettering  had 
been  painted  over,  and  on  the  side — he  squeezed 
himself  into  the  stall  to  see  better — there  were 
more  letters: 

"  F.  E.  COLCHESTER,  Stanfield,  Mass." 

Printed  across  the  corner  was  the  word  "  Clocks." 

As  he  read  it  he  laughed  aloud  and  jumped 
back.  A  box  of  clocks  for  Effie  Colchester  I  It 
was  a  joke.  It  was  too  easy! 

He  flung  off  his  coat  and  hat,  letting  them  fall 
unheeded  on  the  floor,  and  began  hunting  for  some- 
thing to  use  as  a  screwdriver.  An  old  sickle  with 
a  blunted  end  was  the  best  he  could  find,  and  with 
it  he  went  to  work. 

It  was  slow  business,  but  one  by  one  he  removed 
the  screws.  He  finished  the  front  row  of  them,  and 
then  he  had  to  move  some  of  the  other  boxes  to  get 
at  the  screws  in  the  back.  That  was  a  ticklish  job, 
for  he  had  to  be  careful  not  to  set  the  whole  pile 
tumbling  over  on  him.  Then  he  braced  himself  to 
shift  the  box  around. 

At  the  first  shove  his  heart  sank.  It  moved 
without  any  difficulty  at  all.  Feverishly  he  attacked 

169 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

the  remaining  screws.  At  last  one  of  the  broad 
boards  was  free  and  toppled  over  against  him. 
For  an  instant  he  hesitated,  and  then  thrust  in  his 
hand.  The  box  was  empty. 

He  leaned  limply  back  against  the  wall.  He 
could  have  wept,  but  instead  he  giggled  hysterically. 
Fooled!  E'ffie  had  seen  through  him  all  along,  and 
had  played  this  joke  on  him ! 

Then  he  sat  down  and  began  to  think.  No,  it 
couldn't  be  a  joke.  Effie  had  been  deadly  serious 
when  he  spoke  to  him,  and  he  wouldn't  be  tele- 
graphing about  a  joke:  Meredith  wouldn't  have 
sent  him  that  note  about  a  joke.  The  statue  had 
really  been  here,  and  somehow,  in  some  secret  man- 
ner, Colchester  had  got  it  away  again.  Perhaps 
Effie  had  been  seeing  that  it  was  packed  securely 
when  he  visited  the  barn  in  the  afternoon  with  the 
hammer.  And  then,  when  they  had  all  gone  to  the 
concert,  it  had  been  taken  away.  That's  what  Effie 
had  been  telegraphing  about ! 

He  got  up  wearily.  He  must  put  things  as  he 
had  found  them.  Now,  more  than  ever,  he  did  not 
want  anyone  to  know  he  had  been  prying  around 
for  the  hidden  statue.  He  replaced  the  board  and 
the  screws,  and  piled  the  boxes  up  again.  Then  he 
gathered  up  his  coat  and  hat  and  went  back  to  the 
room  upstairs.  When  he  had  blown  out  the  lantern 
and  climbed  out  on  the  ladder  he  suddenly  heard 

170 


"OLD  SLOUCH"  ON  THE  WARPATH 

voices   singing   far  down  the   road — Effie's  voice, 
and  Butt's,  and  the  shrill  treble  of  the  girls: 

*'  If  you  want  to  go  to  Tresham, 
Just  come  along  with  me, 
By  the  light,  by  the  light  of  the  moon. " 

He  had  replaced  the  ladder  and  was  sitting  on 
the  front  steps  when  the  others  reached  the  house. 

"Oh,  here's  Mr.  Bill!"  exclaimed  Mildred. 
"  We've  had  a  glorious  time !  " 

"What's  the  matter,  Bill?"  cried  Colchester 
anxiously.  "  We  looked  everywhere  for  you.  We 
couldn't  think  what  in  the  deuce  had  become  of  you." 

"  I  wasn't  feeling  very  well.  I  thought  I'd 
come  on  ahead." 

"  Oh,  you'll  feel  better  when  you  get  something 
to  eat.  Mother  said  she'd  leave  some  lunch  out 
for  us." 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I  think  I'd  like  to  go  to 
bed,"  Bill  said  as  they  stopped  in  the  hall  and  Col- 
chester turned  up  the  light. 

"  You're  sick,  Bill !  You're  white  as  a  sheet. 
I'll  call  mother  and  have  her  get  something  for 
you." 

"  No,  no.  I  just  want  to  go  to  bed.  I'll  be  all 
right  in  the  morning."  And  he  started  up  the  stairs. 
"  Please  don't  bother  about  me.  I'm  all  right,  really. 
Good  night." 

171 


THE   NEW  SOPHOMORE 

But  Colchester  insisted  on  going  upstairs  witK 
him,  and  hovered  over  him  till  he  was  safe  in  bed. 

"  Sure  I  can't  do  something  for  you,  Bill  ?  I'm 
awfully  sorry!  " 

Bill  forced  a  smile.  His  chief  feeling  at  that 
moment  was  that  he  was  thoroughly  ashamed  of 
himself. 

"  Don't  worry  about  me,  Effie.  You're  awfully 
good.  I  guess  I'm  just  tired  out." 

Colchester  turned  down  the  light  and  left  him. 

"  Be  sure  and  let  me  know  if  you  want  any- 
thing." 

"  Yes ;  good  night."  And  Bill  turned  over  and 
hid  his  face  in  the  pillow. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A  TROUBLOUS  INTERLUDE 

BILL  was  all  right  the  next  morning,  just  as 
he  had  said  he  would  be,  but  they  made  a  lot 
of  fuss  over  him  to  which  he  had  to  submit  as 
gracefully  as  he  could.  It  was  the  penalty  for  re- 
treating to  bed  as  he  had  the  night  before.  He  wore 
a  subdued  air,  which  they  took  for  illness,  but  it  was 
really  because  he  was  afflicted  with  remorse.  On 
sober  reflection  it  seemed  pretty  poor  business,  break- 
ing into  the  Colchesters'  barn  like  a  thief  while  he 
was  a  guest  at  their  house.  Perhaps  he  would  not  have 
looked  at  it  so  soberly  if  he  had  found  what  he  was 
looking  for.  But  as  it  was,  the  disappointment  had 
a  chastening  effect,  and  now  that  the  excitement  was 
all  over  and  had  amounted  to  nothing,  he  told  him- 
self he  had  been  a  prying  fool.  Maybe  that  box 
had  never  held  the  statue  at  all.  Nevertheless,  he 
felt  sure  it  had. 

They  left  on  an  early  afternoon  train  for  the 
next  concert,  and  the  cousins  went  with  them  as 
far  as  the  next  town,  where  they  lived.  Bill  had 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

an  additional  touch  of  remorse  because  he  had  de- 
ceived the  younger  one  about  his  dancing.  She  had 
been  particularly  nice  to  him  all  that  morning:  she 
was  so  sorry  he  was  not  well!  And  though  he  did 
not  tell  her  she  was  a  "  nice  kid,"  that  was  what  he 
thought,  and  in  the  way  he  meant  it,  it  was  the 
finest  compliment  he  could  pay  her. 

The  concert  that  night  was  not  a  highly  success- 
ful one.  It  rained  for  one  thing,  a  chill  November 
rain  that  kept  people  away,  and  they  were  in  a 
town  where  none  of  the  fellows  had  any  particular 
friends  to  stir  up  enthusiasm  for  them.  Tod  Smith 
was  grouchy;  he  swore  he'd  never  heard  the  club  sing 
so  badly — which  didn't  help  matters — and  the  whole 
thing  dragged  itself  through  in  a  spiritless  fashion 
that  made  them  all  glad  when  it  was  over. 

The  next  morning  they  were  routed  out  of  bed 
before  daylight  to  take  an  early  train  that  would 
get  them  back  to  Tresham  in  time  for  chapel.  The 
Thanksgiving  recess  was  over,  and  it  was  back  to 
work  till  the  Christmas  holidays. 

Bill  did  not  return  in  very  gay  spirits.  He  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  dismiss  Sabrina  from  his 
thoughts  for  good  and  all,  but  the  sting  of  dis- 
appointment stayed  by  him  and  would  not  be  ban- 
ished. He  had  been  so  sure  that  he  was  on  the  right 
track:  he  was  still  sure  he  had  been,  and  to  have 
it  all  fizzle  out  so  hurt  his  pride.  He  argued  with 


A   TROUBLOUS    INTERLUDE 

himself  that,  no  matter  how  acute  he  had  been,  the 
result  could  not  have  been  any  different — the  statue 
simply  wasn't  there  for  him  to  find;  but  that  was 
small  comfort.  To  have  come  so  near,  and  then 
miss,  was  almost  heartbreaking.  He  tried  to  be 
philosophical  and  say  that  even  if  he  had  succeeded 
he  would  have  gained  nothing.  It  would  do  him 
no  good  to  find  Sabrina,  for  he  was  a  Sabrina  man 
himself,  bound  in  honor  not  to  betray  the  secret  of 
her  hiding  place  even  if  he  knew  it.  But  that  was 
not  the  point.  He  was  not  looking  to  gain  anything. 
It  was  the  hunt  for  the  hunt's  sake  that  had  drawn 
him  on,  and  the  secret  pride  of  having  succeeded 
would  have  been  his  reward. 

He  kept  thinking  and  puzzling  over  the  mystery 
of  that  empty  box.  How  long  had  it  been  empty? 
Had  Colchester's  visit  to  the  barn  that  afternoon, 
taking  him  away  from  their  merry-making,  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  it?  If  so,  what?  But  there  was 
no  use  in  speculating  on  it.  He  had  come  as  near 
as  he  could  to  answering  questions  of  that  kind:  not 
once  in  years  was  such  luck  even  as  he  had  had  likely 
to  come  to  anyone,  and  it  would  not  come  to  him 
again.  He  had  better  get  what  satisfaction  there 
was  out  of  having  made  as  much  as  he  could  out  of 
it.  But  he  could  not  help  finding  that  rather  cold 
satisfaction  at  best. 

That  afternoon  he  learned  that  Colchester  had 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

not  returned  with  the  clubs,  which  set  him  specu- 
lating anew.  The  obvious  explanation  was  that  he 
had  gone  back  home  for  Sunday:  that  was  what 
everyone  thought.  But  just  now  Bill  was  not  in  a 
frame  of  mind  to  accept  obvious  explanations.  He 
had  it  on  the  authority  of  Sherlock  Holmes  himself 
that  the  deepest  of  mysteries  were  often  to  be  found 
beneath  the  most  commonplace,  every-day  kind  of 
happenings,  and  in  his  present  absorption  in  the 
secret  of  Sabrina's  whereabouts  he  would  have  seen 
a  hidden  meaning  even  in  the  mere  fact  that  Colches- 
ter might  chance  to  go  uptown  on  the  right-hand  side 
of  the  street  instead  of  the  left. 

He  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  regretting  that 
he  had  not  kept  a  more  watchful  eye  on  Colchester 
after  that  fruitless  venture  into  the  barn.  If  he  had 
only  been  more  alert  instead  of  foolishly  losing  all 
his  enthusiasm  simply  because  he  had  run  up  against 
a  temporary  failure,  he  might  have  discovered  a 
clue  really  worth  while.  Why  hadn't  he  seen  when 
Effie  left  them,  and  found  out  all  the  whys  and 
wherefores  of  it?  Was  it  immediately  after  the 
concert  or  the  next  morning?  And  where  had  he 
really  gone  ? 

But  after  all  Bill  was  not  the  sort  of  fellow  to 
waste  much  time  on  what  might  have  been.  Once 
he  saw  that  there  was  really  nothing  to  be  done, 
he  stopped  regretting  and  tried  to  put  it  out  of 

176 


A   TROUBLOUS   INTERLUDE 

mind,  with  a  tiny  hope  tucked  away  in  the  bottom 
of  him  that  something  might  turn  up  after  all  that 
would  make  it  all  right. 

Colchester  came  back  Monday  morning,  big 
and  serene  as  ever,  and  anxious  in  a  friendly  way 
about  the  state  of  Bill's  health.  And  Bill  had  to 
protest  all  over  again  that  there  was  nothing  the 
matter  with  him.  There  were  kindly  messages 
from  the  Colchester  family,  and  Bill  had  to  admit 
that  if  Effie  hadn't  been  home  over  Sunday  he  was 
a  very  successful  deceiver — which  didn't  seem  at  all 
like  Effie. 

At  length  it  became  clear  that,  as  far  as  any  like- 
lihood of  his  discovering  it  went,  there  was 
nothing  doing  in  the  Sabrina  line  at  all,  and  Bill 
sensibly  gave  up  bothering  about  it.  He  could  not 
be  forever  spying  upon  Effie  Colchester,  and  a  little 
serious  thought  showed  him  that  even  if  he  could 
it  would  be  a  mean  return  for  the  friendship  the 
senior  was  giving  him,  especially  when  his  sole  ob- 
ject was  to  satisfy  a  curiosity  about  something  that 
was  after  all  not  any  of  his  business. 

Besides,  there  were  other  things  to  think  about. 
Just  before  Christmas  the  despised  Herbie  Nichols 
came  to  the  fore  again,  and  because  Chanler  and 
Burnet  were  concerned,  it  concerned  Bill. 

Nichols  had  not  been  having  a  very  happy  time. 
Though  the  sophomores  who  knew  of  it  had  agreed 

177 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

to  say  nothing  about  Nichols's  little  joke  on  his 
classmates  in  the  early  fall,  he  had  not  been  able  to 
keep  Rowson  silent  for  very  long,  and  after  a  time 
the  details  of  McCarthy's  kidnapping  became  pretty 
generally  known.  If  Nichols  had  been  a  different 
kind  of  fellow  that  probably  would  not  have 
amounted  to  anything.  It  might  even  have  seemed 
as  funny  as  he  intended  it  to  be.  But  Nichols  was 
unfortunately  just  what  he  was,  not  likable  at  best, 
and  with  what  good  points  he  did  have  so  effectually 
concealed  that  most  people  never  took  the  trouble 
to  ferret  them  out.  He  was  not  bright.  He  had 
come  to  Tresham  because  he  had  flunked  out  of 
Harvard  the  spring  before,  and  was  a  sophomore 
only  on  probation.  He  was  not  attractive  in  any 
way;  he  had  no  accomplishments  at  all,  social,  ath- 
letic, or  intellectual,  and  he  was  hopelessly  given  to 
talking  a  great  deal  and  very  loudly  about  things 
that  were  utterly  uninteresting — very  often  about 
himself. 

Coming  to  Tresham  without  any  friends  at  all, 
and  getting  in  wrong  with  Chanler  and  McCarthy 
at  the  very  first,  it  was  not  strange  that  he  found  it 
hard  to  make  a  place  for  himself  that  was  worth 
anything.  Butt  and  Mac  were  probably  the  two 
most  popular  men  in  the  class,  Butt  simply  because 
he  could  not  help  it,  and  Mac  because  in  addition  to 
being  a  good  fellow  he  was  the  star  pitcher  on  the 

178 


baseball  team  and  the  winner  of  many  a  crucial  game 
on  the  diamond.  Either  one  of  them,  by  merely 
being  friendly,  could  have  done  a  lot  for  Nichols,  for 
where  they  led  others  followed.  But  their  attitude 
was  decidedly  the  opposite,  and  though  they  did  not 
intentionally  show  it,  it  was  plain  enough  to  anyone 
who  saw  much  of  them.  The  result  was  that  Nich- 
ols had  to  seek  companions  among  those  to  whom 
Butt's  and  Mac's  likes  and  dislikes  made  no  differ- 
ence at  all,  and  so  great  was  the  hold  of  these  two 
upon  their  classmates  that  such  ones  were  pretty  few 
and  of  the  kind  that  one  would  not  willingly  make 
special  cronies  of. 

Whatever  Nichols's  shortcomings  were,  he  saw 
plainly  enough  that  he  was  not  making  any  headway 
with  the  fellows  who  amounted  to  anything  in  his 
own  class,  and  out  of  sheer  loneliness  he  one  day 
gathered  together  his  belongings  and  had  them 
carted  up  to  a  vacant  room  in  the  Dorms.  He  be- 
longed to  no  fraternity  and  no  one  he  cared  about 
ever  came  to  his  room,  so  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  go  where  he  could  at  least  be  among  a  crowd, 
if  not  of  it. 

The  room  he  took  was  on  the  same  floor  as 
Burnet's,  and  Burnet,  because  he  had  an  exceed- 
ingly kind  heart,  was  nice  to  his  new  neighbor. 
Poor  Nichols  responded  gratefully,  and  if  he  did 
not  exactly  blossom  under  the  new  treatment,  he  at 

179 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

least  showed  that  he  was  not  altogether  what  Haw- 
kins had  once  called  him — a  "  mutt."  He  poured 
forth  the  tale  of  his  loneliness  to  this  kindly  fresh- 
man, who  was  too  polite  not  to  listen  even  if  he  had 
not  felt  rather  sorry  for  his  visitor,  with  the  result 
that  Nichols  went  back  to  his  own  room  late  that 
night  feeling  that  at  last  he  had  found  a  friend. 
Later  on  Burnet  was  inclined  to  wish  he  had  not 
been  so  sympathetic,  for  Nichols  got  to  coming  often 
and  staying  long,  and,  at  best,  too  big  doses  of  him 
got  tiresome.  Besides,  other  friends  of  his  looked 
askance  at  this  new  companionship:  they  even  went 
further  and  started  criticizing  it. 

"  What  in  thunder  do  you  have  that  fruit  hang- 
ing around  all  the  time  for?  "  they  asked.  But  that 
made  Burnet  stubborn,  and  he  was  more  friendly 
to  Nichols  than  ever. 

At  length  Butt  got  wind  of  it,  and  in  his  role 
of  adviser  and  old  friend  he,  too,  protested. 

"  Now  what's  the  use  of  talking  like  that, 
Butt?"  Burnet  answered.  "You  know  me  well 
enough  to  know  it  won't  do  any  good.  It  isn't  do- 
ing me  or  anyone  else  any  harm  to  be  decent  to 
him." 

"  I  didn't  say  it  was.  But  it's  such  a  waste  of 
time.  I  should  think  you'd  have  found  out  that  he 
isn't  your  kind  from  just  the  little  time  he  passed 
himself  off  as  a  classmate  of  yours." 

1 80 


A   TROUBLOUS   INTERLUDE 

"  Of  course  you  think  that,  and  that's  what  is 
so  unfair.  That  man  has  had  a  downright  miserable 
time  all  the  fall,  and  just  because  you  all  judged 
him  by  that  one  thing  and  decided  he  was  no  good. 
You  know  that  a  new  man  hasn't  any  chance  of 
getting  in  with  the  nice  fellows  in  your  class  when 
he  starts  in  with  your  crowd  and  McCarthy's  down 
on  him  the  first  thing,  especially  when  he — well, 
when  he's  like  Nichols." 

"  But  doesn't  that  prove  he's  no  good?  We 
haven't  said  anything  against  him,  and  if  he  had 
anything  to  him  he'd  make  friends  fast  enough. 
That's  what  I  mean  when  I  say  you're  wasting  your 
time." 

Burnet  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I'll  admit  he's  pretty  far  from  being  a  star, 
but  that  isn't  admitting  that  I'm  wasting  my  time. 
My  time  is  my  own,  and  I  should  feel  like  a  rotten 
old  snob  if  I  didn't  try  to  be  halfway  decent  to  him. 
Lord  knows  he's  lonely  enough:  nobody  else  has 
anything  to  do  with  him,  and  it's  a  good  deal  your 
fault." 

"I'd  like  to  know  how  you  make  that  out!  " 
cried  Butt  indignantly. 

"  I've  told  you  already,  and  you  know  it  just 
as  well  as  I  do." 

"  Would  you  mind  saying  it  over  again?  "  Butt 
spoke  with  the  restrained  calm  of  one  who  argues 
13  181 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

with  an  unreasonable  child.  "  I  may  be  stupid,  but 
I  didn't  catch  your  point." 

"  That's  right — get  sore !  What  I  said  was  that 
you  queered  him  at  the  very  beginning,  and  he  knows 
it.  There  isn't  a  man  in  your  class  he'd  rather  have 
like  him  than  you." 

Butt  was  silent.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  had  never 
thought  of  his  popularity  as  a  thing  that  had  any 
special  influence.  He  knew  that  the  fellows  appar- 
ently all  liked  him,  and  he  was  proud  of  it,  but  it 
had  never  occurred  to  him  that  their  liking  might 
lead  them  so  far  as  to  make  them  accept  his  judg- 
ment of  anybody  without  having  some  grounds  to 
form  the  same  judgment  on  their  own  account.  It 
seemed  impossible  and  ridiculous.  The  fact  that 
he  and  his  classmates  had  agreed  so  unanimously 
about  Nichols  was  proof  positive  that  they  were 
right — he  simply  was  not  worth  while. 

But  in  spite  of  his  certainty  of  this,  Burnet's 
words  had  some  result.  Butt  always  wanted  to  be 
fair,  and  rather  than  have  Nichols  feel,  however 
unjustly,  that  he  had  been  exercising  a  hostile  in- 
fluence, he  resolved  to  do  what  he  could  to  make 
amends. 

"  I  know  you're  wrong,  Bunny,"  he  said.  "  At 
least  about  my  having  made  any  difference.  That's 
all  rot.  But  if  it  will  ease  your  mind  any  I'll  seek 
out  your  man  and  make  peace  with  him.  I  don't 

182 


A   TROUBLOUS    INTERLUDE 

want  any  shattered  careers  on  my  conscience  even 
when  it's  all  imagination." 

And  he  straightway  went  to  Nichols  and  was 
what  Burnet  would  have  called  "  decent  "  to  him. 
Nichols  was  surprised  and  so  humbly  grateful  that 
Butt  came  away  feeling  that  he  had  wronged  the 
man,  and  determined  to  make  up  for  it. 

So  things  began  to  look  up  for  the  lone  sopho- 
more. He  did  not  find  himself  any  more  sought 
after  than  before,  but  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with 
Butt  Chanler,  even  if  he  did  not  see  so  very  much 
of  him,  was  a  great  comfort,  for  to  him  Butt  seemed 
one  of  the  finest  fellows  that  ever  trod  the  earth. 
And  he  knew  that  he  owed  it  all  to  Burnet,  and  his 
gratitude  took  the  form  of  haunting  Burnet's  room 
all  the  more,  which  wore  on  even  that  kind-hearted 
freshman  at  times.  But  Burnet  continued  to  de- 
fend him  as  stoutly  as  ever  when  anyone  took  it 
upon  himself  to  make  remarks.  Both  he  and  Butt 
had  to  put  up  with  a  good  deal  of  joshing  about 
their  "  crush." 

So  Bill  came  to  see  more  or  less  of  Nichols,  too. 
He  could  not  easily  help  it  when  he  went  to  the 
Dorms  to  see  Burnet,  for  Nichols  seemed  to  be  per- 
petually there.  For  Burnet's  sake  he  made  no*com- 
ment,  and  successfully  concealed  the  fact  that  he 
thought  Nichols  the  most  tiresome  man  he  had  ever 
known.  But  Nichols  was  keen  enough  when  it  came 

183 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

to  discovering  whether  people  liked  him  or  not;  he 
even  realized  that  there  was  a  touch  of  toleration  in 
Butt's  attitude  toward  him,  and  he  saw  plainly  that 
for  all  his  politeness  Bill  wished  he  would  keep  out 
of  the  way.  All  of  which  aroused  a  certain  streak 
of  malice  in  him,  and  made  him  keep  in  the  way  as 
much  as  he  could. 

Suddenly,  out  of  this  tiresome  but  seemingly 
harmless  association,  burst  a  small-sized  thunderbolt. 

Bill  had  gone  up  to  Burnet's  room  one  evening. 
The  Christmas  vacation  was  only  three  days  away, 
and  he  had  been  waiting  to  hear  from  his  family  be- 
fore deciding  whether  to  go  home  for  the  holidays 
or  to  stay  East  and  spend  part  of  them  with  Butt  and 
Burnet.  A  letter  had  just  come  from  his  father. 

He  found  Burnet  working  hard  at  a  new  type- 
writer. Having  literary  aspirations,  Bunny  wished 
to  own  all  the  tools  of  the  trade,  and  this  latest  pur- 
chase was  at  least  useful  in  making  his  themes  legible. 

"  You'd  save  time  by  using  both  hands,"  ob- 
served Bill  after  he  had  watched  Burnet  for  a  few 
minutes  laboriously  picking  out  the  letters  with  one 
forefinger. 

"  Probably,  but  I'm  going  to  learn  this  way 
first,"  was  the  serene  response. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  I  don't  mind."  Bill  sauntered 
over  to  the  fireplace  and  dropped  another  stick  of 
wood  on  the  fire.  "  Nice  dry  wood  you  have." 

184 


A   TROUBLOUS    INTERLUDE 

No  response  at  all  this  time. 

"  A  fire  is  very  cheerful  to-night.  It's  quite 
chilly  out." 

Still  Burnet  kept  pegging  at  his  machine. 
'  Well,   I  guess  I'll  be  moving  along.      I  just 
dropped  in  to  tell  you  that  it  would  give  me  great 
pleasure  to  accept  your  kind  invitation  for  Christ- 
mas and  that " 

"  Oh,  Billy!  Good  work!  "  Burnet  jumped  up 
from  his  typewriter,  all  enthusiasm.  "  Did  you  hear 
from  home?  " 

'  Yes.  The  folks  are  coming  on  to  New  York 
the  first  of  the  week.  And  say,  don't  you  suppose 
you  and  Butt  can  go  down  for  New  Year's?  They 
say  that's  always  a  big  time  in  New  York,  and  I 
want  you  and  the  folks  to  know  each  other,  my  kid 
brother  especially.  He  may  come  to  Tresham  in  a 
couple  of  years,  if  the  old  gent  is  satisfied  with  the 
way  I  do  here." 

Burnet  looked  thoughtfully  into  the  fire. 

"  Gee,  I'd  like  to.  You  know  I've  never  been  to 
New  York.  Have  you  asked  Butt  yet  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  had  a  chance.  He's  gone  to  one  of 
his  old  Honor  System  meetings  and  I  didn't  get  this 
letter  till  after  supper.  Say,  Bunny,  it'll  be  great 
fun  if  you  can  go !  " 

And  they  talked  at  length  about  what  they  would 
do  if  they  went  to  New  York  and  what  they  would 

185 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

do  at  Burnet's  home,  till  finally  Bill  remembered 
that  he  had  work  to  do  and  must  get  back  to  his 
room. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  remarked  as  he  stood  with  his 
hand  on  the  doorknob,  ready  to  go,  "  what's  the 
matter  with  your  friend  Herbie  to-night?  " 

"  Nothing  that  I  know  of.    Why?" 

"  Oh,  he  isn't  around.  I  thought  something  must 
be  the  trouble.  Well,  good  night.  Don't  try  to 
write  that  letter  home  on  your  typewriter.  You  want 
to  get  it  off  some  time  this  week." 

Out  in  the  hall  he  met  Butt  on  his  way  to  Bur- 
net's  room. 

"  Just  the  man  I  want!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Going 
in  to  see  Bunny?  " 

"  Yes.  Wait  for  me,  won't  you?  I  want  to  see 
you,  too — afterwards." 

"  I'm  going  home  with  you  for  Christmas,"  Bill 
said  eagerly,  turning  back  with  him,  "  and  you  and 
Bunny  have  got  to  go  down  to  New  York  with  me 
later — the  folks  are  going  to  be  there !  " 

Butt  said  something  about  how  glad  he  was,  and 
maybe  he  could  go,  but  when  they  were  inside  and 
seated  around  the  fire  again,  it  was  Bill  and  Burnet 
that  did  most  of  the  talking  and  planning. 

"Wake  up,  Butt!  "  exclaimed  Bill  after  a  few 
minutes.  "  Haven't  you  any  interest  at  all?  " 

"  Sure  I  have.  I  know  we'll  have  a  good  time. 
186 


A    TROUBLOUS    INTERLUDE 

We'll  see  Walter  Welles,  too.  You  don't  know  him 
but  you'll  like  him.  He  started  in  with  our  class  last 
fall.  He  was  class  president  while  he  was  here,  but 
his  father  died  and  he  had  to  leave." 

"Show  a  little  enthusiasm  then:  you  act  as 
though  you  didn't  care.  Oh,  thunder!  "  he  ex- 
claimed, lowering  his  voice,  for  the  door  had 
opened  and  Nichols  entered.  "  I  knew  he'd  show 
up!" 

Nichols's  coming  put  an  end  to  their  planning 
and  Bill  and  Butt  got  up  to  go. 

"  Oh,  Bunny,  how's  the  work  going?  "  asked 
Butt,  picking  up  something  from  the  mantel  and 
making  a  pretense  of  examining  it. 

"  All  right,  I  guess,"  was  the  casual  response. 
Burnet  was  preparing  to  sit  down  at  the  typewriter 
again. 

"  Math  bothering  you  any?  " 

"  Math  always  bothers  me,  but  I  think  I'm  above 
the  passing  mark." 

"  Haven't  you  been  having  some  tests  lately?  " 

"  Oh,  we  have  them  all  the  time.  We  had  one 
— let's  see — Tuesday,  wasn't  it,  Herb?" 

Nichols  nodded.  He  had  had  to  repeat  Fresh- 
man Math  this  year. 

"  I  flunked  it  dead,"  Burnet  added.  "  Have  they 
been  reporting  me  down  in  it?  " 

"  No,  not  exactly.  But  we  fellows  down  at  the 
187 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

house  have  to  keep  track  of  the  kind  of  work  you 
freshmen  do."  Butt  spoke  hurriedly,  and  started 
for  the  door.  "Good  night!  "  he  said,  and  has- 
tened out. 

Bill  had  to  run  down  the  stairs  to  keep  up  with 
him. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Butt?"  he  de- 
manded, catching  up  with  him  as  they  reached  the 
walk  outside. 

Butt  did  not  answer  at  once. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Bunny?  "  he  asked  sud- 
denly. 

"  Think  of  him  ?  Why,  I  think  he's  all  right,  of 
course.  I  like  him  a  lot." 

"  You  think  he's  straight  and  square,  don't 
you?" 

Bill  stopped  short  and  took  Butt  by  the  arm. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?  What's  up?" 
he  cried. 

"  Oh,  I'll  tell  you.  I've  got  to  tell  somebody,  and 
you — Bill,  you  can  find  out  things  the  rest  of  us 
can't,  sometimes,  just  fooling.  For  Heaven's  sake, 
see  if  you  can't  do  it  in  something  that  counts.  This 
means  a  lot !  " 

"  But  tell  me  what  it  is !  " 

"  You  know  the  Honor  System  committee  had 
a  meeting  to-night,  and  you  know  what  that 


188 


A   TROUBLOUS   INTERLUDE 

"  Some  one's  been  caught  cribbing  ?  It 
wasn't "  He  stopped. 

"  Yes :  it  was  Bunny." 

"  Well,  he  didn't  do  it.    You  can  bet  on  that !  " 

"  I  know  he  didri't.  Why,  I've  known  Bunny 
Burnet  ever  since  we  were  kids.  It  isn't  in  him  to  do 
a  thing  like  that !  But  it  looks  as  though  he  did." 

Bill  shook  his  head  in  exasperation. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  I  could  guess  that  much,  if 
it  has  gone  into  the  committee's  hands?  What  I 
want  to  know  is  all  about  it.  When  did  it  happen? 
Who  thinks  he  did  it?  " 

'*  The  Math  instructor,  and  the  rest  of  the  com- 
mittee." 

Bill  said  nothing,  but  waited. 

"  I  haven't  any  right  to  be  telling  you  this.  We 
aren't  supposed  to  tell  what  goes  on  in  the  commit- 
tee meetings — but  I've  got  to  do  something!  Can't 
you  help  me,  Bill?  You've  got  to  help  me!  I  got 
them  to  agree  not  to  do  anything  just  yet  because  I 
know  him  so  well  and  I'm  so  sure  of  him.  They're 
going  to  let  me  investigate  a  little.  But  there  isn't 
much  time ;  they  won't  wait  forever." 

"Why  didn't  you  ask  Bunny  himself?  Prob- 
ably he  could  clear  up  the  whole  thing." 

"  I  was  going  to  to-night — that's  what  I  went  up 
to  his  room  for.  But  I  couldn't  get  up  my  nerve  to, 
and  then  Nichols  came  in.  I  couldn't  then  anyway. 

189 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

But  you  heard  me  ask  about  that  test.  If  there's 
been  anything  unusual  about  that  he'd  have  spoken 
about  it,  or  a  least  shown  it.  Bunny  can't  be  mixed 
up  in  anything  that's  crooked  without  showing  it  the 
first  thing." 

They  were  outside  Mrs.  Sleeper's  and  Butt 
stopped  till  they  were  upstairs  in  Bill's  room.  But 
then  he  seemed  disinclined  to  go  on;  he  just  sat 
glumly  in  a  chair,  saying  nothing. 

"  Who  found  it  out?  "  asked  Bill. 

"  The  professor — and  he  reported  it." 

"  But  I  thought  this  Honor  System  business  was 
all  run  by  the  students  and  the  faculty  kept  out." 

"  They  do,  except  when  they  come  across  a  case 
where  it's  perfectly  plain,  or  at  least  pretty  suspi- 
cious, and  then  they  have  to  report  it  to  the  student 
committee.  After  that  it's  in  the  students'  hands. 
They  investigate  it,  and  if  they  find  it  really  seems 
to  be  a  case  of  cribbing  they  give  the  man  a  chance 
to  clear  himself  if  he  can,  and  if  he  can't  they  report 
him  to  the  faculty  and  recommend  what  they  think 
ought  to  be  done  to  him." 

"  How  about  this  case?  " 

"  Oh,  it's  cribbing,  all  right.  It  was  in  that  Math 
test  last  Tuesday.  Bunny's  work  has  been  poor  for 
some  time,  but  the  professor  likes  him  and  he's  been 
trying  to  help  him  outside  of  the  class  and  make  him 
buck  up.  When  he  came  to  correct  these  papers  he 

190 


A   TROUBLOUS    INTERLUDE 

found  Bunny's  was  a  mighty  good  one — they'd  been 
given  five  problems,  but  only  four  were  required,  and 
Bunny  had  the  answers  to  four  of  them  right.  The 
professor  was  pleased,  but  he  was  surprised,  and  he 
started  to  look  over  the  work.  He  found  that  the 
last  part  of  every  single  problem  had  been  erased 
and  done  over  again,  and  the  part  that  was  done 
over  was  copied." 

"  How  does  he  know  that?  Bunny  might  have 
worked  them  over  again  without  copying  them." 

"  But  the  working  over  didn't  fit  on  to  the  first 
part  at  all.  It's  plain  enough  that  the  things  were 
copied." 

Bill  snorted  with  impatience. 

"  Rot!     How  do  you  know  they  were  copied?  " 

"  They  look  as  if  they  had  been." 

"  Butt  Chanler,  you've  lost  every  smack  of  com- 
mon sense  you  ever  had — and  the  whole  thing  looks 
to  me  as  though  your  Math  man  had  run  into  trouble 
on  pretty  slim  evidence.  What  kind  of  evidence  do 
you  call  that?  Why,  it's  just  another  proof  that 
they're  mistaken.  If  Bunny  ever  did  take  to  crib- 
bing, he'd  do  it  intelligently.  He  wouldn't  leave 
part  of  his  own  work  and  part  of  another  man's  that 
didn't  fit  together." 

"  But  it  was  Bunny's  book,  all  right.     I  saw  it." 

Bill  sat  for  a  few  moments  thinking,  while  Butt 
got  up  and  walked  nervously  back  and  forth. 

191 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

"  Do  you  know  whose  paper  the  problems  were 
copied  from?  "  he  asked  at  length. 

"  No.  It  might  have  been  anybody's  that  had 
the  problems  done  right." 

"  But  you  said  one  of  them  was  wrong.  Was 
that  one  copied,  too?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,  if  the  others  were.  I'm  not  sure." 

Bill  stood  up. 

'  You  ought  to  have  looked  through  all  the 
other  papers  and  found  the  one  that  had  that  same 
wrong  problem  done  in  the  same  wrong  way." 

Butt  stopped  his  pacing,  and  gripped  the  back  of 
a  chair  excitedly. 

"  I  never  thought  of  that!  "  he  cried.  Then  the 
hopeful  look  died  out  of  his  face.  "  But  what  good 
would  it  do  anyway?  We'd  know  the  man  it  was 
copied  from,  but  that  wouldn't  help  us." 

"  It  might.  Maybe  those  problems  weren't  cop- 
ied. Bunny  may  have  done  them  on  another  piece 
of  paper  and  then  copied  the  last  part  of  'em  with- 
out changing  the  first  parts.  Perhaps  that's  all  he 
had  time  to  do.  Perhaps— Oh,  all  sorts  of  things! 
The  sensible  thing  would  be  to  ask  Bunny  himself. 
He  probably  could  explain  the  whole  thing." 

"  Oh,  I  know  that.  But  I  hate  to  have  him  know 
that's  he's  even  suspected  of  such  a  thing!  I  want 
to  clear  it  up  myself  if  I  can." 

"  Well,  maybe Can't  you  get  hold  of 

192 


A   TROUBLOUS    INTERLUDE 

those  papers?  We  might  make  something  out  of 
them." 

Butt  drew  out  his  watch. 

"  Half  past  nine.  You  wait!  I'll  get  'em  if  I 
can.  I  think  Morty  '11  let  me  take  'em :  he  wants  to 
see  Bunny  cleared  as  much  as  anyone." 

Butt  did  not  wait  to  put  on  his  overcoat.  He 
grabbed  his  cap  and  dashed  out  of  the  room.  It  was 
nearly  an  hour  before  he  returned,  with  a  pile  of 
blue-covered  notebooks  under  his  arm. 

"  I've  got  'em !  "  he  cried,  out  of  breath. 

"  Did  you  have  to  get  out  a  warrant  for  them?  " 

"  No;  I  went  up  to  see  Bunny  first.  I  thought 
he  might  be  able  to  explain  it,  after  all,  and  there 
wouldn't  be  anything  else  to  do.  But  he  can't." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

Butt  pulled  out  his  handkerchief  and  wiped  his 
forehead. 

"  Nichols  was  there  and  I  had  to  ask  him  to  get 
out,  and  then  I  told  Bunny.  He  says  he  did  the 
problems  over  several  times,  and  did  a  lot  of  eras- 
ing. But  he  got  'em  different  every  time,  and  he's 
pretty  sure  he  didn't  get  the  right  answers  any  time. 
If  he  did,  it  was  just  luck:  he  didn't  copy  from 
anybody  else.  He  says  he  couldn't  have,  anyway, 
without  being  seen,  because  there  were  several  fel- 
lows still  at  work  there  when  he  got  discouraged 
and  quit.  He's  terribly  excited  about  it.  He  swears 

193 


there's  some  mistake,  and  he  wanted  to  go  right 
down  to  Professor  Mortimer's  and  thresh  it  out  to- 
night, but  I  got  him  to  wait  till  to-morrow." 

Bill  picked  up  the  top  blue  book. 

"  Let's  look  at  them.  If  we  can't  find  another 
that's  just  like  his,  it's  pretty  good  proof  that  his 
wasn't  copied.  Where's  his  book?  " 

Butt  picked  it  out  from  the  pile  and  Bill  looked 
at  it. 

"  He  had  the  third  problem  wrong.  What  we 
want  is  to  find  another  fellow  that  had  this  same 
problem  done  the  same  way." 

"I  hope  we  won't  find  any!"  said  Butt  fer- 
vently, and  they  began  their  search. 

For  twenty  minutes  the  quick  turning  of  pages 
was  the  only  sound  in  the  room.  Then  Butt  seized 
Burnet's  paper  suddenly,  and  a  moment  later  uttered 
a  sharp  cry. 

"What  is  it?  "cried  Bill. 

"  There  it  is !  "  Butt  threw  down  the  two  books 
with  a  despairing  gesture. 

Bill  picked  them  up  and  compared  them  care- 
fully. 

"  They're  exactly  alike,"  he  said  at  length. 
"  Everything — except  the  parts  he  didn't  erase." 

Butt  said  nothing;  he  simply  stared  at  Bill  in 
glum  silence. 

"  Who  is  this  man  Hopper — the  one  they  were 
194 


A   TROUBLOUS   INTERLUDE 

— well,  the  one  it  looks  as  though  they  were  copied 
from?" 

"  Oh,  I  know  him.  He's  a  shark.  He  gets  A's 
in  everything.  Will  you  blame  them  for  suspecting 
Bunny  now?  He  had  every  reason  to  crib,  and  the 
other  man  didn't,  and  there's  about  as  much  evidence 
as  anyone  could  want." 

Bill  made  no  answer,  but  took  Burnet's  book 
closer  to  the  light  and  stood  studying  it  closely. 

"  Butt !  "  he  called  sharply.    "  Come  here !  " 

Butt  jumped  to  his  side. 

"  Look — at  that  '  x  '  there.  Now  look  at  this 
other.  See?"  He  pointed  eagerly,  and  Butt  put 
his  head  down  close  to  examine.  "  Bunny  made 
that  one,  and  he  didn't  make  this.  See  the  differ- 
ence? Bunny's  is  a  plain,  clean  cross,  and  this  other 
one  has  a  loop,  all  made  without  taking  the  pencil 
off  the  paper.  Look,  they're  all  like  that  in  the  part 
that  was  copied." 

Butt  stared  for  a  moment,  and  then  a  smile  ap- 
peared and  grew  on  his  face. 

"Then  he  didn't  do  it!  "  he  cried. 

"Of  course  he  didn't!"  Bill  beamed  trium- 
phantly. 

Butt  dropped  the  book  and  sat  down,  his  eyes 
radiant. 

"  By  golly !  "  he  exclaimed  softly.    "  I'm  glad !  " 

They  sat  and  looked  at  each  other,  and  smiled, 
195 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

and  then  laughed.     At  length  Butt  sprang  to  his 
feet. 

"  We  must  tell  him,"  he  cried.  "  He'll  be  lying 
awake  thinking  about  it.  We  mustn't  make  him 
wait  till  morning  before  he  knows  it's  all  cleared 
up." 

Together  they  hurried  out  of  the  room  and  down 
the  stairs,  leaving  the  light  still  burning,  and  dashed 
hatless  into  the  street.  But  they  had  only  reached 
the  foot  of  the  campus  hill  when  they  met  Burnet, 
hurrying,  hatless,  too,  to  their  room. 

"  Oh,  I've  been  down  to  the  house  and  every- 
where looking  for  you!"  he  cried.  "I  want  to 
talk  about  it!  But  the  other  fellows  didn't  know 
and  I — I  somehow  couldn't  tell  them." 

"  Cheer  up,  Bunny!  "  exclaimed  Butt  joyfully. 
"You  didn't  do  it!" 

"  I  know  I  didn't,  but  they  think  I  did,  and  that's 
just  as  bad." 

"  Come  on  back  to  the  room,"  said  Bill,  linking 
arms  with  the  other  two.  "  We  can  prove  you 
didn't  do  it.  That  ought  to  hold  them !  " 

"  How?  "  Burnet  questioned  eagerly. 

"  Easiest  thing  in  the  world:  just  by  comparing 
your  letters  and  figures  with  the  ones  that  were 
copied." 

"  But  there  wasn't  anything  copied.  All  the 
letters  and  figures  in  my  book  were  my  own  I  " 

196 


A   TROUBLOUS    INTERLUDE 

"  No,  they  weren't !    You  wait  till  you  see  them." 

They  hurried  him  into  the  house  and  upstairs, 
and  showed  him  the  book. 

"Are  they,  now?"  Butt  asked. 

Burnet  needed  only  a  glance  at  the  paper. 

"  But  who  did  it?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  don't  know,  but  it  was  copied  from  Hopper's 
paper — you  can  see  it's  just  the  same,  mistakes  and 
all." 

A  slow  flush  mounted  Burnet's  face. 

"  Do  you  think — "  He  stopped,  as  if  the  very 
thought  was  hard  to  utter.  "  Some  one — do  you 
think  some  one  dislikes  me  so  much  that  he's  tried 
this  way  to  get  me  into  trouble  ?  " 

They  had  not  thought  of  that,  they  were  so  glad 
to  have  found  proof  of  Burnet's  innocence. 

"  Of  course  not.  You  haven't  an  enemy  in 
the  world,  Bunny !  But  what  would  anybody  want  to 
do  such  a  thing  for?"  Butt  knew  the  idea  was 
ridiculous,  but  it  grew  on  him.  What  other  ex- 
planation was  there? 

"  We'll  find  out,  if  it  was  anybody  in  the  class," 
Bill  cried,  seizing  the  pile  of  books.  "  Go  through 
them  all:  start  at  the  beginning,  and  look  for  some 
*  x's  '  like  these.  That  may  track  him." 

Feverishly  they  went  at  the  blue  books  again, 
studying  and  comparing,  starting  with  the  beginning 
of  the  alphabet.  Burnet  was  the  one  to  find  the 
14  197 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

first  striking  similarity.  Long  and  carefully  he  com- 
pared the  letters  and  figures  in  the  book  he  held  with 
those  in  his  own  book.  Then  he  laid  them  both  down, 
open,  on  the  table. 

"  There  it  is,"  he  said.  His  flushed  face  had 
paled  and  he  spoke  in  a  voice  that  was  curiously 
calm  and  repressed. 

Together  Bill  and  Butt  bent  over  the  two  books. 

"  By  George,  it  is!  "  Bill  started  to  turn  over 
the  book  to  see  the  name  on  the  front,  but  Burnet 
snatched  it  away  and  put  it  behind  him. 

"Whose  is  it?" 

Burnet  stared  at  them  for  a  moment,  coldly  and 
defiantly.  Then  in  a  sudden  burst  of  anger  he  hurled 
the  book  at  the  wall. 

"  I  don't  care  who  knows  it !  "  he  shouted,  his 
voice  rising  and  breaking.  "  He's  played  me  dirty! 
It's  Nichols!" 

They  simply  stared  at  him,  as  he  stood  with 
fists  clenched  and  eyes  filling.  Then  Bill  went  over 
and  picked  up  the  book. 

"  It  is  Nichols,"  he  said.    "  Herbert  P.  Nichols." 

For  minutes,  almost,  the  three  stood  there,  and 
no  one  said  a  word.  Then  Burnet  relaxed  his  tense 
attitude  and  sat  down  in  a  chair. 

"  I  don't  see  why  he  did  it,"  he  said  brokenly. 

"Well,  I'll  find  out!"  cried  Butt,  stepping  for- 
ward resolutely.  "  I'll  find  out  to-night!  " 

198 


A   TROUBLOUS   INTERLUDE 

'*  Wait  a  minute !  "  Burnet  reached  out  his  hand 
as  if  to  stop  him.  "  I  want  to  think  a  minute." 

1  Think !  There's  no  two  ways  of  thinking 
about  this  thing  at  all.  He  did  it.  There's  the 
proof!  I  don't  know  what  dirty,  mean  purpose  he 
had  underneath  it  all,  but  he  did  it  all  right.  And 
he'll  get  what's  coming  to  him  for  it!  " 

"Wait!"  Burnet  repeated.  And  they  waited, 
while  he  sat  there  thinking,  his  elbows  on  the  table 
and  his  hands  clutching  his  hair.  "  I  can't  make  it 
out,"  he  said  finally.  "  I  can't  see  why  he  did  it. 
Why,  he  was  in  again  after  Butt  was  up;  and  I  told 
him  about  it.  And  he  never  gave  a  sign !  But  don't 
do  anything  to-night — please  don't.  See  him  in  the 
morning,  and —  What  will  they  do  to  him  ?  " 

"  Fire  him !  "  said  Butt  decidedly. 

"  See  him  in  the  morning  and  tell  him  they  will 
fire  him,  and  try  to  get  him  to  go  himself.  Don't 
you  see  ?  I  don't  want  people  to  know  he's  done  this 
thing  to  me!  It's  bad  enough  to  have  him  do  it, 
but  I  don't  want  people  to  know!" 

"  Well,  you  are  a  funny  one !  What's  the  harm 
of  that?  He  deserves  it!  "  exclaimed  Butt. 

"I  think  I  see,"  said  Bill.  "Do  that,  Butt! 
See  him  to-morrow,  and  tell  him  the  case  is  as  plain 
as  day  against  him,  and  get  him  to  leave  quietly 
without  any  having  to.  You  can  make  him  if  anyone 


can." 


199. 


"  But  that's  so — so — I  don't  see  the  object  of 
it!" 

"  It'll  make  it  easier  for  Bunny  if  people  don't 
know  about  it.  Don't  you  see?  Bunny's  been  his 
friend,  the  best  friend  he's  had  here,  and  it  isn't 
very  pleasant  to  have  everybody  know  a  fellow 
you've  gone  out  of  your  way  to  be  decent  to  has 
turned  and  played  you  a  dirty  trick  like  that." 

Butt  saw,  dimly,  though  it  seemed  more  to  him 
as  if  Burnet  dreaded  the  inevitable  "  I  told  you  so  " 
than  anything  else.  But  he  didn't  blame  him  for 
that,  and  he  agreed  to  what  they  asked. 

"Can  I  stay  down  here  to-night,  Bill?"  asked 
Burnet  wearily.  "  I  don't  want  to  go  back  to  the 
Dorms." 

"  Sure :  you  can  have  either  the  couch  or  the 
bed." 

"  I'll  take  the  couch.    And  I  think  I'll  go  to  bed 


now." 


And  to  bed  he  went,  and  the  other  two  talked  in 
whispers  so  as  not  to  disturb  him.  But  it  was  long 
after  Butt  had  gone  and  Bill  had  gone  to  bed  himself 
before  Bunny  went  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE    BANQUET    THEY    DIDN'T    HAVE 

BURNET  was  pretty  quiet  when  he  got  up  the 
next  morning,  and  Bill  made  no  attempt  to 
force  conversation.    He  thought  he  under- 
stood, in  a  way,  how  Bunny  felt.    He  also  knew  that 
there  was  only  one  thing  either  of  them  were  think- 
ing about,  and  it  was  foolish  to  pretend  they  were  not 
by  trying  to  talk  of  something  else. 

The  night  had  not  cleared  things  up  especially 
for  Burnet.  His  feelings  had  cooled  a  little,  but  in 
cooling  they  had  hardened,  which  was  not  any  pleas- 
anter.  He  tried  at  times  to  turn  his  thoughts  in 
another  direction,  but  there  was  no  dodging  that 
one  bitter,  humiliating  fact :  he  had  been  fooled  into 
friendship  by  some  one  who  had  played  on  his  good 
nature  and  sympathy  only  to  turn  against  him  in  this 
unaccountable  way  in  the  end.  And  added  to  the 
humiliation  was  the  bewilderment.  What  had  Nich- 
ols to  gain  by  saddling  him  with  such  a  thing? 
Cribbing  was  a  serious  thing  in  Tresham.  A  man 
who  was  caught  at  it  was  expelled  in  short  order. 

201 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

What  good  would  it  do  Nichols  to  have  him  ex- 
pelled ?  Had  he  been  harboring  some  secret  grudge, 
and  was  this  his  way  of  wiping  it  out?  This  was 
not  so  hard  to  believe  as  it  might  have  been,  for 
Burnet  remembered  unpleasant  things  that  had  hap- 
pened in  the  Nichols-McCarthy  episode  early  in  the 
fall  which,  now  that  he  thought  of  it,  had  never  been 
explained  away. 

The  whole  business  was  sickening  anyway,  and 
Burnet  only  hoped  that  Nichols  would  be  persuaded 
to  leave  without  any  public  rumpus,  and  that  he 
would  not  see  him  again  before  he  left.  So  Bunny 
did  not  go  to  chapel  that  morning.  After  breakfast 
he  went  to  the  house,  resolved  to  stay  away  from 
the  Dorms  even,  till  he  heard  that  Nichols  was 
gone. 

There  Butt  found  him  an  hour  later.  Butt 
looked  very  serious. 

"  Well,"  said  Burnet  shortly.     "  Will  he  go?  " 

"We've  made  a  mistake,  Bunny?"  Butt  said 
soberly. 

"What?    Didn't  he  do  it?" 

Burnet's  face  lighted  eagerly,  but  the  light  died 
out  again  at  Butt's  response. 

"  Oh,  he  did  it,  but "  He  paused,  looking 

at  Burnet.  "  We  weren't  fair  to  him." 

"What  does  he  say?" 

"  I  haven't  seen  him.  I  couldn't  find  him. 
202 


THE  BANQUET  THEY  DIDN'T  HAVE 

Meredith  told  me  about  it.  He  stopped  me  after 
chapel — he's  the  head  of  the  Honor  System  Com- 
mittee, you  know — and  said  that  Nichols  came 
around  to  him  last  night  and  confessed  the  whole 
business." 

Burnet  stared  at  him. 

"  Did  he — did  he  say  why  he  did  it?  " 

"  Yes,  and  that's  the  funny  part  of  it.  It  seems 
that  right  after  he  found  out  that  you  were  in  this 
mess  he  went  straight  down  to  Morty  and  told 
him  the  whole  thing,  and  he  sent  him  around  to 
Merry.  Merry  called  me  up  on  the  'phone  to 
tell  me  about  it,  but  it  was  before  I  got  back  from 
Bill's." 

"  Did  he  want  to  get  me  into  trouble?  " 

"  No !  That's  where  we  weren't  fair  to  him. 
We  jumped  right  at  that,  as  if  he  couldn't  have  been 
trying  to  do  anything  else.  He  was  trying  to  help 
you!" 

"Help  me!" 

"  He  knew  you  were  down  in  Math.  He  was 
'way  down  himself,  too.  He  was  the  last  one  left 
in  the  room,  and  he  saw  what  a  fine  chance  it  was  to 
take  some  one  else's  paper  and  fix  his  problems  right, 
so  he  copied  Hopper's,  and  then  he  thought  of  you. 
He  looked  at  your  paper,  and  saw  it  was  probably 
all  wrong — it  wasn't  like  Hopper's — so  he  changed 
yours,  too.  He  had  to  do  it  in  a  hurry,  so  he  didn't 

203 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

have  time  to  do  it  so  carefully.    He  never  thought 
it  might  be  found  out  and  get  you  into  trouble." 

Burnet  felt  suddenly  as  if  a  great  load  had  been 
lifted  off  him.  He  had  not  realized  it,  but  his 
whole  faith  in  friends  and  friendship  had  been  ebb- 
ing away  since  this  faithlessness  of  Nichols's,  and 
now  it  came  back  in  a  surging  rush. 

"  Poor  Nick !  "  he  exclaimed,  his  eyes  shining. 

"  He's  a  poor,  deluded  fool,"  said  Butt.  "  The 
whole  business  was  foolishness,  and  the  only  thing 
in  his  favor  was  his  good  intentions.  But  I'm  afraid 
they  won't  help  him  much." 

"  Why,  will  they  punish  him,  now  that  he's  con- 
fessed? " 

"Why  not?  He  cribbed,  didn't  he?  Cribbed 
for  himself  and  cribbed  for  you.  There's  no  getting 
away  from  that." 

There  wasn't,  apparently,  so  far  as  Burnet  was 
able  to  see,  but  later  in  the  day,  when  the  Committee 
had  met  again,  Butt  was  not  so  discouraging.  He 
could  not  tell  what  was  going  to  be  done;  he  could 
not  even  tell  what  the  recommendation  of  the  Com- 
mittee had  been,  but  the  case  was  now  out  of  their 
hands  and  up  to  the  faculty,  and  there  was  a  chance, 
a  bare  chance,  that  it  might  not  come  out  so  badly 
as  they  had  feared. 

Burnet  still  rather  dreaded  seeing  Nichols:  it 
was  hard  to  know  what  to  say  to  him.  But  it  turned 

204 


THE  BANQUET  THEY  DIDN'T  HAVE 

out  that  Nichols  was  avoiding  him,  too,  so  Burnet 
went  straight  to  Nichols's  room  and  got  the  interview 
over.  It  was  not  especially  hard  once  they  got  to- 
gether, though  Burnet  found  he  could  not  be  as  frank 
as  he  had  intended  to  be.  He  had  meant  to  give 
Nichols  a  good  talking  to  on  the  right  and  wrong 
things  that  could  be  done  in  the  name  of  friendship, 
but  he  finally  came  away  without  doing  anything  of 
the  kind,  and  considerably  puzzled  by  the  way  Nich- 
ols evidently  looked  at  such  things.  He  seemed  to  be 
afflicted  with  a  sort  of  moral  blindness  that  made  it 
hard  to  discuss  this  present  matter  with  him  accord- 
ing to  ordinary  standards.  As  far  as  the  cribbing 
went,  considered  by  itself,  he  could  not  see  that  it  was 
wrong  in  his  case — nor  would  it  be  in  Burnet's,  ac- 
cording to  him — because  he  was  not  trying  for  high 
marks.  He  was  simply  trying  to  get  through,  which, 
unlike  high  marks,  did  not  raise  him  in  rank  above 
any  of  his  fellow-students  and  brought  him  no  false 
honors.  As  to  this  particular  case  of  cribbing,  that 
which  he  had  done  for  Burnet  was  entirely  justified 
by  the  motives  that  prompted  it.  He  had  done  it  to 
help  a  friend,  and  to  him  that  made  it  all  right.  Ap- 
parently he  could  have  cheated,  lied,  anything, 
without  a  qualm  of  conscience,  if  he  were  only  doing 
it  to  help  some  one  for  whom  he  cared. 

Just  now  Burnet  did  not  want  to  go  into  any 
very  deep  argument  about  these  things.     It  would 

205 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

have  to  be  conducted  on  too  personal  grounds,  and 
it  would  involve  talking  about  the  way  he  and 
Nichols  felt  toward  each  other,  and  that  Burnet 
shrank  from. 

It  was  decided  that  nothing  more  would  be  done 
in  the  Nichols  case  until  after  the  holiday  vacation, 
now  only  two  days  off.  It  had  peculiar  features  that 
needed  careful  consideration,  and  the  faculty  post- 
poned action  till  they  should  have  time  to  deliberate 
more.  So  for  the  present  none  of  the  students  knew 
about  it  except  Burnet  and  Bill  and  the  Committee. 

Bill  spent  a  merry  Christmas  in  the  little  town 
where  Butt  and  Burnet  lived,  and  two  days  later 
went  to  New  York  to  meet  his  family,  where  the 
other  two  joined  him  on  the  afternoon  of  New  Year's 
Eve. 

To  all  three  of  them  New  Year's  Eve  in  New 
York  was  an  entirely  new  experience.  Welles,  Butt's 
former  classmate,  was  to  meet  them  directly  after 
dinner  and  show  them  the  sights,  but  at  the  last  mo- 
ment he  telephoned  that  he  could  not  join  them  till 
ten  o'clock,  so  they  started  out  alone. 

Early  as  it  was  when  they  reached  Broadway 
it  was  already  jammed  with  a  merry,  jostling  crowd' 
that  surged  up  and  down,  back  and  forth,  in  a  slow- 
moving  stream  apparently  without  beginning  or  end 
and  without  any  aim  except  to  keep  on  surging.  The 
three  linked  arms  to  keep  from  being  separated  and 

206 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

let  themselves  drift  with  the  current,  very  happy  for 
a  time  just  to  watch  the  crowd.  It  was  like  a  gigantic 
picnic  where  everybody  knew  everybody  else  and 
was  glad  to  see  everybody  else,  and  no  place  for  a 
man  who  was  not  on  the  best  of  jolly  good  terms' 
with  his  fellow-men.  The  din  was  well-nigh  deafen- 
ing— horns  bellowing,  shrill  mouth-whistles  screech- 
ing, cow-bells  jangling — and  beneath  it  all  the  in- 
cessant undercurrent  of  merry  thousands  talking 
and  laughing.  Confetti  fairly  rained,  until  the 
street  ran  with  it  under  foot  as  with  a  stream, 
and  when  one  was  not  dodging  confetti,  one 
was  dodging  the  feather  ticklers  that  almost  every 
other  merry-maker  kept  thrusting  into  his  neighbor's 
face. 

It  was  good  fun,  being  one  of  that  good-natured 
throng,  and  our  three  visitors  from  the  country  were 
content  simply  to  drift  along  with  it,  each  armed  with 
a  feather  tickler  he  had  snatched  from  some  unwary 
passer-by,  intoxicated  by  the  crowd,  the  lights  and 
the  merry  uproar. 

Suddenly  Butt  stopped  and  turned. 

"  There's  Effie  Colchester!  "  he  exclaimed. 

"Where?" 

"  He  just  passed  us — he  and  another  fellow. 
Come  on,  let's  catch  up  with  them,"  and  Butt  tried 
to  point  them  out. 

"  Move  forward,  please !  Plenty  of  room  in 
207 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

the   front  of  the  car!  "   piped  a  fat  man  behind 
them. 

"  We're  blocking  traffic  here,"  said  Bill.  "  We'd 
better  get  out  of  the  way." 

"  Let's  turn  around  and  catch  up  with  them," 
and  Butt  started  forcing  his  way  back.  But  they  were 
in  the  part  of  the  crowd  that  was  moving  forward, 
and  they  had  to  shove  their  way  into  a  stream  in  the 
other  direction  before  they  could  make  much 
progress.  By  that  time  Colchester  and  his  compan- 
ion were  lost  sight  of,  but  the  three  kept  on,  trusting 
that  luck  would  somehow  bring  them  together  again. 

It  did:  before  they  had  gone  a  block  they  came 
upon  Colchester  and  Meredith  standing  in  front  of  a 
big  doorway,  buying  whirligig  rattlers  from  a  lame 
Italian. 

"  Tresham  this  way!"  called  Butt,  grabbing 
Colchester  by  the  arm.  Colchester  turned. 

"Butt  Chanler!"  he  exclaimed.  "Where  in 
thunder  did  you  drop  from  ?  " 

"  From  up  in  the  rural  districts.  We're  seeing 
the  big  city.  Aren't  you  a  long  way  from  home  ?  " 

"  We  thought  we'd  give  the  metropolis  a  treat. 
Hello,  you  other  people !  What's  that  you've  got 
there?  Ticklers!  That's  plebeian.  You've  got 
to  have  some  of  these  things  if  you  want  to  travel  in 
our  circle.  Here,  Michael  Angelo,  we  desire  to 
purchase  three  more  of  these  weapons !  " 

208 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

The  three  cast  away  their-  ticklers  and  took 
the  new  noise-makers  which  the  smiling  Italian 
handed  out  to  them  with  a  "  Happa  New  Year, 
Signori." 

"  Now  whither  bound?  "  asked  Colchester,  giv- 
ing his  rattler  a  deafening  whirl. 

"  Nowhere  in  particular.  We're  just  roaming 
around  till  ten  o'clock.  We're  to  meet  Walter 
Welles  then  and  have  him  show  us  the  town." 

"  Then  we'll  roam  together,"  and  Colchester  led 
the  way,  elbowing  his  passage  into  the  crowd. 

Meredith  had  not  spoken  a  word  to  them.  His 
greeting  had  been  a  bare  nod. 

"  We're  butting  into  something  here,"  whispered 
Bill,  putting  his  mouth  close  to  Butt's  ear. 

"  Of  course  we're  not !  Can't  you  see  Effie's 
glad  to  see  us?  He'd  tell  us  if  he  didn't  want  us 
along." 

"  That's  all  right,  but  Meredith  is  sore  about  it. 
I  move  we  let  'em  go  along  by  themselves." 

"  Wait  till  we  get  uptown  farther.  We'll  meet 
Welles  there,  and  if  they  want  to  duck  away  they 
can.  I  want  to  see  Effie  a  minute." 

So  they  kept  on  till  they  came  to  the  hotel  where 
they  were  to  meet  Welles.  There  Butt  got  Col- 
chester off  into  a  corner  for  his  "minute,"  while  the 
other  three  stood  waiting,  Meredith  a  little  apart 
and  obviously  fidgeting. 

209 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

While  they  stood  there  Welles  came  up,  and 
Meredith  introduced  him  to  Bill  and  Burnet. 

"  Glad  to  know  you,"  he  said  cordially.  "  I 
really  know  you  already,  because  Butt  keeps  me 
pretty  well  posted  about  the  people  up  in  college. 
He's  the  only  man  I  ever  knew  who  writes  regular 
letters  that  really  tell  things.  Where  is  the  little 
feller?" 

u  Over  there  in  the  corner  talking  secrets  with 
Colchester.  Here,  Butt!  " 

Butt's  attention  was  at  length  attracted  and  there 
followed  a  period  of  greetings  and  questionings  and 
answerings  during  which  Meredith  and  Colchester 
disappeared. 

"  I'm  glad  they're  gone,"  remarked  Bill.  "  That 
man  Meredith  is  about  as  good  company  as  a  deaf 
and  dumb  man.  I'd  like  to  know  what  Effie  travels 
around  with  him  for." 

"There's  a  reason!"  said  Butt  meaningly, 
speaking  aside  so  that  Burnet  would  not  hear.  "  I'll 
tell  you  later,  but  it's  a  dead,  dead  secret." 

Sabrina !  It  came  to  Bill  in  a  flash,  but  he  only 
said : 

"  Well,  Meredith  needn't  think  I'm  after  any 
of  his  secrets.  Do  you  suppose  if  we  went  out  on 
the  street  again  he'd  think  we  were  trying  to  follow 
him?" 

"  Let's  go  where  we  can  sit  down  and  talk  for  a 
210 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

while.  We've  tramped  around  enough  for  now,  and 
we  can  go  out  again  when  it  comes  time  to  see  the 
New  Year  in." 

Welles  knew  a  place  where  they  could  sit  down 
and  talk,  and  thither  they  repaired  and  there  they 
stayed  till  nearly  midnight.  There  was  much 
to  talk  of,  and  Butt  evidently  imparted  his  dead, 
dead  secret  to  Welles  under  cover  of  the  music  and 
uproar  of  the  cafe  where  they  sought  refreshment, 
while  Bill,  suspecting  the  subject  of  the  revelations 
that  were  going  on,  kept  Burnet's  attention  in  other 
directions. 

The  secret  might  have  been  unfolded  under  Bur- 
net's  very  nose,  though,  without  his  suspecting  it, 
for  he  was  busy  making  mental  notes  of  what  was 
going  on  about  him.  Everything  was  grist  to  his 
mill,  and  even  as  he  sat  there  he  planned  out  a 
wonderful  story  that  he  could  put  it  all  into.  He 
was  trying  his  hand  at  real  stories  nowadays,  not 
Sabrina  themes,  and  here  was  new  local  color  galore. 

"  Come  on,"  said  Welles  finally.  "  The  street's 
the  place  to  see  the  New  Year  in — up  on  Times 
Square,"  and  out  he  led  them.  The  crowd  was 
bigger  and  merrier  than  ever,  and  the  jam  about 
Times  Square  almost  impassable.  But  they  found 
a  place  on  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  where  they  took 
their  stand,  arms  about  each  other's  shoulders  to 
brace  them  against  the  pressure  from  behind,  to 

211 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

watch  the  electric  ball  high  above  the  Times  Build- 
ing.   At  midnight  that  ball  would  drop. 

The  crowd  had  stopped  moving  now.  It  stood 
still,  dense  and  compact,  every  eye  turned  upward. 
It  was  silent,  too,  breathlessly  waiting.  There 
seemed  something  hypnotic  about  that  ball  of  light, 
holding  those  thousands  of  eyes  during  that  strange 
hush.  Our  four  unconsciously  stretched  upward  till 
they  stood  on  tiptoes,  their  faces  raised.  Then 
somewhere  the  first  stroke  of  a  church  bell  tolled, 
and  pandemonium  broke  loose  as  the  ball  dropped. 
And  with  it,  as  one  man,  dropped  the  four,  as  if 
something  that  had  held  them  up  suddenly  let 
go,  and  they  lay  in  a  laughing  heap  on  the  side- 
walk. 

"Happy  New  Year!  Happy  New  Year!" 
Everybody  was  greeting  everybody,  and  they  picked 
themselves  up,  helped  by  friendly  strangers,  to  shake 
hands  with  whoever  happened  to  be  nearest. 

"It's  lucky  no  one  we  know  saw  us,"  laughed 
Bill.  "They'd  think  we'd  had  too  much  New 
Year." 

"Where  do  you  want  to  go  now?"  asked 
Welles,  as  they  stopped  where  a  large  doorway  made 
an  eddy  in  the  stream  of  moving  people. 

"  Let's  not  see  any  more  sights  to-night — unless 
you  really  want  to,"  suggested  Bill.  "  Is  there  any- 
thing more  to  see?  " 

212 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

"  Just  more  of  the  same  kind  of  thing — and 
then  some  more,"  said  Welles. 

"  Let's  go  back  to  the  hotel,  then.  We  can  sit 
around  there  and  talk.  I'd  rather,  if  you're  game." 

They  were,  for  it  had  been  a  long  day  and  the 
night  promised  to  be  even  longer  before  it  was 
done.  To  judge  from  the  streets  the  town  might 
just  have  been  starting  in.  So  they  started  back  to 
Bill's  hotel.  On  the  way  Bill  discovered  a  new 
pastime  for  their  amusement — which  consisted  sim- 
ply in  flipping  a  handkerchief  at  some  passer-by. 
The  flipped  one  invariably  turned  indignantly 
around,  feeling  in  his  pocket  with  one  hand  and 
snatching  at  the  handkerchief  with  the  other,  under 
the  momentary  delusion  that  he  was  being  pick- 
pocketed.  This  made  diversion  enough  for  them 
till  they  reached  the  cross  street  where  Mr.  Bill  had 
made  their  headquarters.  They  found  the  rest  of 
the  Bill  family  had  not  yet  come  in,  so  they  repaired 
to  the  smoking  room  for  what  Welles  called  a  "  gab- 
fest." 

There  was  plenty  to  talk  about.  Welles  had  to 
hear  all  about  the  college,  and  Butt  had  to  hear  all 
about  Welles  and  his  doings  out  in  the  "  wide, 
wide  world."  Burnet  listened  eagerly,  convinced 
that  the  life  of  a  New  York  reporter  was  the  life  for 
him — at  least  until  he  had  written  his  famous  book, 
then  he  would  have  no  need  for  a  job  of  any  kind. 
is  213 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

But  the  freshman's  head  at  length  had  all  it  could 
stand  of  new  things,  and  he  fell  asleep  in  his  chair, 
while  the  others,  with  lowered  voices,  talked  of  the 
"  dead,  dead  secret." 

Bill  had  already  partly  guessed  what  it  was — the 
Sabrina  banquet  was  to  be  held  here  in  New  York 
within  a  fortnight.  That  was  why  Meredith  was  in 
town,  and  one  of  the  reasons  Butt  had  found  it  con- 
venient to  accept  Bill's  holiday  invitation.  He  had 
been  coming  to  New  York  anyway,  and  to-morrow 
Burnet  must  be  kept  engaged  while  he  hied  himself 
off  to  aid  in  completing  arrangements  that  were  neces- 
sary. 

"  It's  been  more  fun,  Walter,"  whispered  Butt, 
giggling  happily.  "  A  little  while  ago  Bill  suddenly 
got  interested  in  Sabrina,  and  kept  talking  and  ask- 
ing about  her,  and  I  had  a  great  time  all  to  myself 
kidding  him  about  the  great  secret  that  was  brewing. 
That  is,  every  one  thought  I  was  kidding,  but  this 
thing  was  being  planned  all  the  time." 

Bill  wished  that  Welles  knew  all  that  had 
really  happened.  He  wanted  very  much  to  wink  at 
some  one  over  Butt's  head.  But  Welles  did  not 
know,  and  the  wink  would  not  have  been  under- 
stood. 

"  What  has  Effie  got  to  do  with  it?  "  he  asked. 

"  Nothing,  only  he  happens  to  be  here  with 
Merry  just  as  you  happen  to  be  here  with  me.  Of 

214 


THE    BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

course  he  knows  about  it,  but  except  the  committee 
and  you  two,  he  and  Merry  are  the  only  ones." 

"  Isn't  there  any  one  else?  "  asked  Bill  slyly. 

"  Oh,  of  course  the  one — the  one  that  has  charge 
of  her  now.  But  no  one  knows  who  that  is  but 
Merry." 

"  Not  even  the  president  of  the  sophomore 
class?" 

"  When  they  get  ready  to  tell  me  they  will," 
said  Butt  with  dignity.  "  I  haven't  asked,  I  know 
that." 

And  then  Bill  did  wink.  But  Welles  only  half 
understood  what  the  joke  was,  though  he  smiled 
responsively. 

There  was  a  lot  more  planning  about  the  various 
things  the  class  would  do  in  connection  with  the 
banquet  in  the  way  of  having  a  good  time,  and  much 
pledging  of  secrecy,  and  at  length  they  aroused  Bur- 
net  and  bade  Welles  good  night. 

'  You  can  get  around  to-morrow  some  time, 
can't  you?  "  Butt  asked,  as  Welles  stood  in  the  door 
to  go.  '  We  have  to  leave  some  time  in  the  after- 
noon." 

"  I  think  so.  I'll  call  you  up,  anyway.  So 
long." 

Bill  helped  Butt  to  make  excuses  the  next  morn- 
ing and  kept  Burnet  from  being  curious  by  a  sly 
mention  of  a  "  friend  "  Butt  had  to  see.  Burnet  was 

215 


THE   NEW  SOPHOMORE 

too  busy  gathering  new  impressions,  however,  to  be 
curious  about  Butt,  and  Bill  need  not  have  perjured 
himself  even  by  implication. 

That  night  they  were  back  in  Tresham,  and 
Butt  confided  to  Bill  most  privately  that  all  was 
arranged,  but  he  mustn't  breathe  a  word  to  anybody 
or  even  let  on  that  he  knew  there  was  anything  to 
breathe  a  word  about. 

College  brought  Nichols  again,  and  Burnet 
sighed  at  the  thought  of  seeing  him  once  more. 
Things  were  so  petty  here  in  Tresham.  If  he  were 
only  out  in  the  world,  doing  things  among  grown 
men  as  Welles  was !  He  indulged  in  a  little  period 
of  discontent,  in  which  he  decided  that  he  was  wast- 
ing his  time  here,  and  would  quit  college  and  go  to 
work  at  the  end  of  the  year — a  period  which  most 
fellows  pass  through  some  time  before  they  get  to 
be  juniors;  it  seems  to  be  part  of  the  college  course. 

Nichols  was  apparently  untroubled  by  any  anx- 
iety about  how  his  affairs  were  coming  out,  and  in 
the  face  of  his  serenity  it  seemed  useless  for  any- 
one else  to  worry.  But  the  days  passed  and  no 
thunderbolt  fell,  until  those  who  were  waiting  began 
almost  to  believe  that  nothing  was  to  happen  after 
all. 

Besides,  Butt  had  the  banquet  to  think  of,  and 
he  moved  about  in  a  state  of  excitement  that  amused 
Bill  tremendously.  But  it  was  admirably  concealed, 

216 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

and  Bill  wondered  if  he  could  have  detected  it  if  he 
had  not  happened  to  know  what  a  deal  of  plotting 
and  secret-keeping  was  going  on  in  the  head  of  the 
small  sophomore  president. 

Bill,  since  he  did  happen  to  know,  was  kept  con- 
tinually informed  of  the  progress  of  things,  though 
the  information  was  always  imparted  behind  locked 
doors  or  far  afield  where  any  eavesdropper  within 
half  a  mile  could  be  quickly  sighted.  But  one  part 
of  the  secret  even  Bill  could  not  know  yet,  though 
Butt  was  not  able  to  refrain  from  telling  him  that 
there  was  such  a  part.  He  chuckled  over  it  mightily, 
hinting  that  it  was  the  best  joke  ever,  and  at  length 
admitting  that  it  had  to  do  with  the  man  who  was 
Sabrina's  guardian. 

"  You  could  guess  and  guess  and  guess,  and 
you'd  never  hit  it,"  he  confided.  "  But  there's  no 
use  in  guessing,  because  I  can't  tell  you  even  if  you 
do  get  it  right."  So  Bill  did  not  try  to  guess.  But 
he,  too,  chuckled. 

He  got  additional  fun  out  of  watching  Colches- 
ter, too.  He  did  it  quietly,  however,  and  in  a  dif- 
ferent spirit  from  that  which  had  formerly  possessed 
him.  He  was  done  with  the  old-time  spying.  He 
kept  watch  now  just  for  amusement,  and  to  see  if 
Effie  would  notice  it.  Apparently  Effie  had  quite 
forgotten  that  Bill  had  once  been  very  near  to  tread- 
ing on  forbidden  ground,  and  he  gave  no  sign  of 

217 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

suspecting  that  he   was  the   object   of   a   friendly 
"  shadow." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  Bill  saw  nothing  at  all  out  of 
the  ordinary.  If  Colchester  were  as  full  of  what 
was  impending  as  Butt,  he  concealed  it  perfectly, 
and  Bill  had  to  admit  that  as  a  plotter  the  easy-going 
senior  was  a  complete  success.  He  discovered  noth- 
ing at  all,  until  one  day  he  found  that  Effie  had  left 
town,  quietly  and  naturally,  as  was  his  wont  in  all 
things,  and  without  exciting  question.  Bill  chuckled 
again,  and  still  again  when  Butt  drew  him  into  his 
bedroom  to  tell  him  there  was  not  much  longer  to 
wait. 

The  great  day  was  really  near.  All  arrange- 
ments were  complete,  the  taxes  on  each  member  of 
the  class  had  been  levied,  the  loyal  followers  of  the 
goddess  were  prepared,  and  only  the  time  for  de- 
parture remained  to  be  disclosed.  That,  and  the 
place  to  which  they  were  going,  was  still  kept  secret. 

Butt  was  to  leave  a  day  in  advance,  and  he  con- 
fided to  Bill  that  that  day  would  probably  be  the 
morrow. 

"  If  it  weren't  for  Goat  I'd  go  to-day.  Perhaps 
I  can  sneak  off  after  Goat  to-night." 

"  Goat,"  so-called  at  Tresham,  is  the  weekly 
fraternity  meeting,  and  obviously  Butt  could  not  be 
absent  from  that  without  exciting  inquiries  from 
juniors  and  freshmen,  so  wait  he  must. 

218 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

That  afternoon  the  faculty  came  to  a  decision 
in  the  Nichols  case,  though  only  the  Honor  System 
Committee  was  informed  of  it.  What  public  an- 
nouncement needed  to  be  made  would  be  made 
to-morrow.  It  was  a  singularly  lenient  decision, 
arrived  at  after  much  earnest  deliberation,  for  the 
case  had  peculiar  features.  Nichols  was  merely  to  be 
flunked  in  Mathematics,  which,  to  him,  brought  with 
it  the  penalty  of  dropping  back  into  the  freshman 
class.  His  standing  as  a  sophomore  was  too  pre- 
carious to  bear  the  additional  burden  of  an  unequivo- 
cal, out-and-out  condition. 

Butt  told  Bill  about  this,  too. 

"  They  had  Nichols  around  and  gave  him  a 
talking  to  this  afternoon,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  know, 
Bill,  that  man  has  horseshoes  all  over  him,  and  he 
doesn't  know  it.  When  I  told  him  he  was  lucky  to 
get  off  as  easy  as  he  did,  he  just  grinned  that  grin  of 
his.  He  thinks  they  couldn't  have  done  anything 
more." 

"  I  should  think  it  was  enough.  I'd  hate  to  tell 
my  old  man  I'd  been  put  back  into  the  freshman 
class." 

"  Well,  Nick  is  different.  He'd  have  been  there 
anyway  by  the  end  of  the  semester.  He  was  only  a 
sophomore  by  the  skin  of  his  teeth.  The  queer  part 
of  it  is  that  he  doesn't  see  any  disgrace  in  it,  and 
that's  just  what  they  wanted  him  to  see.  The  pun- 

219 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

ishment  doesn't  amount  to  anything  in  his  case — 
they  made  that  part  light  because  they  have  a  notion 
he  must  have  some  good  to  him  to  have  done  it  for 
Bunny  the  way  he  did;  and  then  they  tried  to  talk 
ideals  to  him.  But  ideals  aren't  in  Herbie's  line,  I'm 
afraid." 

"  Well,  Bunny'll  have  him  for  a  classmate  now. 
That's  a  blessing  he'll  appreciate." 

"  Bill !  "  Butt  spoke  very  seriously.  "  I  want 
to  know  what  you  think.  Of  course  none  of  the  ban- 
quet committee  has  known  anything  about  this  thing. 
We  didn't  know  ourselves  that  Nick  would  be  put 
out  of  our  class,  and  they've  got  his  money  for  the 
banquet." 

"Why  shouldn't  they?" 

'  They  should,  of  course.  But  he  isn't  in  our 
class  any  more.  Do  you  think  he  ought  to  go  to  the 
banquet?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  not.  He's  paid  his  money  and 
he's  a  Sabrina  man.  Once  a  Sabrina  man,  always  a 
Sabrina  man,  isn't  it?  It  ought  to  be  if  it  isn't." 

Butt's  anxious  seriousness  relaxed. 

1  That's  what  I  thought,  but  people  don't  always 
agree  with  me  about  such  things.  Anyway,  I've  fixed 
it  so  he'll  be  able  to  go  all  right.  He'll  get  word 
when  the  others  do,  and  he  can  go  if  he  wants  to." 

"  I  don't  think  anybody'll  kick.  When  does  the 
sentence  go  into  effect?  " 

220 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

"  They're  going  to  announce  it  in  chapel  to- 
morrow. They  think  the  whole  force  of  the  punish- 
ment will  be  lost  if  people  don't  know  about  it.  But  I 
think  Nick  is  more  pleased  than  anything  else.  He's 
glad  to  be  in  Bunny's  class !  " 

'  Well,  he's  a  queer  one,  that's  all  I  can  say  for 
him.  I'd  rather  be  in  my  own  shoes  than  Bunny's. 
I'm  not  especially  strong  for  that  kind  of  devotion." 

That  was  the  last  Bill  saw  of  Butt  alone  before 
he  left  town.  He  managed  to  steal  away  unchal- 
lenged after  "  Goat,"  and  the  sophomores,  who  were 
the  only  ones  who  noticed  his  absence,  sighed,  each 
to  himself,  with  relief.  They  remembered  a  time, 
little  more  than  a  year  ago,  when  their  president  had 
not  escaped  so  successfully. 

Chapel-goers  had  something  new  to  talk  about 
the  next  morning,  when  the  fact  of  Nichols's  crib- 
bing, with  certain  details  that  were  deemed  necessary 
in  explanation  of  its  punishment,  was  made  public 
for  the  first  time.  Burnet,  who  knew  what  was  com- 
ing, cut  chapel,  but  Nichols  was  there  as  usual,  pre- 
senting a  front  that  many  called  brazen  and  some 
called  brave.  It  was  probably  more  indifferent  than 
anything  else. 

And  the  chapel-goers  talked  about  it,  with  con- 
siderable difference  of  opinion.  For  the  first  time  in 
his  college  career,  Nichols  might  have  heard  good 
words  said  about  himself  if  he  had  been  around  to 

221 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

hear.  Something  in  what  he  had  done  won  sym- 
pathy, as  the  down-trodden  ruffian  who  strikes  a 
blow  for  the  one  man  who  has  done  him  a  kindness 
sometimes  wins  our  sympathy  in  story  books.  Most 
of  the  fellows  agreed  that  he  had  been  foolish,  but 
to  many  of  them  that  did  not  make  any  difference 
with  the  spirit  in  which  he  had  acted,  and  they  con- 
tended that  he  should  not  have  been  punished  at  all. 
The  majority  thought  that  the  faculty  had  done 
wisely  and  justly  by  him,  while  some — those  who 
had  called  him  brazen — maintained  heatedly  that 
he  had  no  more  right  to  a  light  sentence  than  any 
other  who  might  have  been  caught  in  cheating.  He 
had  cheated  for  himself  before  he  had  cheated  for 
Burnet. 

But  Nichols  heard  none  of  this,  nor  would  he 
have  been  greatly  interested  if  he  had.  He  was 
quite  content  with  the  way  things  had  turned  out. 
He  had  not  enjoyed  being  a  sophomore  anyway,  and 
perhaps  now  he  could  make  a  place  for  himself  in 
the  class  with  the  one  fellow  who  had  been  friendly 
to  him  without  making  him  feel  that  being  so  was  a 
favor.  He  was  going  to  make  an  attempt  at  it,  at 
any  rate. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  the  sophomores  were 
given  something  besides  Nichols  to  think  of.  Word 
was  passed  around,  with  a  secrecy  for  which  Butt 
could  have  found  nothing  but  praise,  that  all  Sabrina 

222 


THE   BANQUET   THEY    DIDN'T   HAVE 

men  who  could  go  were  to  leave  in  the  early  even- 
ing for  New  York.  It  was  a  word  that  they  had 
been  expecting  for  many  days,  but  it  was  not  any  less 
exciting  for  that.  Then  they  showed  what  a  year  in 
college  had  done  for  them,  for  though  this  was  one 
of  the  most  momentous  occasions  of  its  kind  that  was 
to  come  to  them,  they  went  about  their  business  with 
a  nonchalance  that  had  been  utterly  impossible  when 
their  freshman  banquet  was  coming  off.  They  laid 
their  plans  coolly,  right  in  the  face  of  unsuspecting 
odd-classmen,  and  when  the  time  came  for  them  to 
leave,  lo !  they  were  gone. 

As  in  all  things  which  they  did,  the  Kappa  Chi 
sophomores  prepared  for  this  departure  together,  ac- 
cording to  plans  that  seemed  hardly  worth  all  the 
earnest  discussion  they  gave  them.  It  was  decided 
that  this  was  no  time  for  stealthy  sneaking  away,  as  if 
they  had  no  right  to  go.  That  was  well  enough  when 
they  were  freshmen — it  even  added  a  certain  spice  of 
adventure.  But  now,  if  ever,  they  ought  to  be  able 
to  depart  openly,  with  only  their  wits  and  their  care- 
less bearing  to  carry  them  through  without  exciting 
question.  All  the  more  glory  to  them  if  they  could 
come  back  and  say :  "  Well,  you  saw  us  go :  we  made 
no  secret  of  it.  If  you  had  been  wise  you  could  have 
nabbed  us  then  and  there." 

It  was  no  unsual  thing  for  the  sophomore  dele- 
gation to  run  over  to  Southboro  for  an  evening,  and 

223 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

that  was  what  they  were  apparently  going  to  do  to- 
night. Bill  met  the  others  at  the  house  after  supper, 
ready  to  start.  To  add  to  their  daring,  they  even 
paid  visits  to  all  the  rooms,  to  crow  secretly  over 
their  less  fortunate  odd-class  brethren.  As  it  hap- 
pened, however,  the  house  was  empty  save  for  some 
seniors,  who  had  been  to  one  Sabrina  banquet  and 
for  financial  reasons  felt  they  could  forego  the  joys 
of  another. 

"  Give  our  regards  to  the  lady,"  they  said,  "  and 
see  that  Effie  Colchester  gets  back  safe.  He's  likely 
to  get  lost  in  that  little  New  York  town." 

And  so  they  left,  without  an  enemy  in  sight. 

;<  This  looks  too  easy,"  said  Bill  as  they  boarded 
the  Southboro  car  at  the  corner. 

"  I'm  glad  it  is,"  said  Hawkins,  breathing  an 
audible  sigh  of  relief.  He  was  not  a  good  actor,  and 
he  was  quite  satisfied  not  to  have  had  to  play  the 
part  so  bravely  laid  out  for  them.  "  This  bold  and 
daring  game  is  all  very  well,  but  I'm  glad  we're 
safely  off." 

At  Southboro  they  took  the  train  for  Springfield, 
and  many  other  sophomores  were  aboard,  with  a 
small  sprinkling  of  seniors.  They  felt  well  out  of 
the  woods  now,  and  the  festive  spirit  that  was  to 
culminate  in  the  banquet  began  to  awaken.  The 
quartet  from  Kappa  Chi  had  stopped  at  the  station 
to  dispatch  a  telegram  to  Butt  saying  all  was  well, 

224 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

and  nothing  remained  between  them  and  the  shrine 
of  their  devotion  but  four  hours'  train  ride. 

Still  more  sophomores  awaited  them  in  Spring- 
field, so  that  now  the  loyal  followers  of  Sabrina  num- 
bered over  a  hundred  strong.  They  made  an  impos- 
ing throng  as  they  stood  on  the  station  platform 
chanting  their 

"All  hail,  Sabrina,  dear!" 

The  spirit  of  it  was  growing  on  Bill. 

"  It's  too  bad  Bunny  isn't  one  of  us,"  he  told 
Gray.  "  He's  always  lamenting  how  nobody  ever 
raves  over  Sabrina  any  more.  He  just  ought  to  be 
along  now  and  see!  Say —  Let's  send  him  a  mes- 
sage of  condolence — it'll  make  him  all  the  sorrier 
he's  nothing  but  a  freshman,  and  we're  far  enough 
away  now  so  it  won't  do  any  harm." 

So  the  four  of  them  went  to  send  another  tele- 
gram. They  made  it  so  lengthy  that  the  operator, 
who  was  new  to  his  job  and  inclined  to  take  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  messages  passing  through  his 
hands,  stared  at  it  with  open  curiosity. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said,  as  he  counted  the  num- 
ber of  words.  "  But  you're  college  students,  ain't 
you?" 

Hawkins,  who  felt  that  this  was  undue  familiar- 
ity and  therefore  to  be  resented,  drew  himself  up 
to  his  full  height  and  scowled. 

225 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

"What's  that  to  you?"  he  demanded  in  his 
gruffest  voice. 

The  operator  retreated  a  step. 

"  Well,  you  needn't  get  mad.  I  thought  this  was 
probably  a  joke." 

"  What's  that  to  you?  "  repeated  Hawkins. 

The  operator's  face  was  red  now,  and  his  voice 
dropped  its  friendly  tone. 

"  Nothing  at  all  if  you're  going  to  take  it  that 
way.  I  thought  if  it  was  a  joke,  I  could  put  you  wise 
to  something  so's  it  wouldn't  turn  out  to  be  on  you. 
But  I'll  let  you  run  your  own  affairs." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Bill,  shoving 
Hawkins  out  of  the  way  and  nudging  him  to  keep 
still. 

"  Nothing  at  all,  nothing  at  all,"  said  the  opera- 
tor, resuming  his  counting  of  the  words.  "  Excuse 
me  for  buttin'  in." 

Bill  became  straightway  very  pacific. 

"Who  said  you  were  butting  in?  It  is  a  joke, 
and  if  there's  anything  that  can  help  it  along  I 
wish  you'd  tell  us.  We're  sorry  we  got  huffy 
about  it." 

Bill's  manner,  fully  as  much  as  his  words,  suc- 
ceeded in  mollifying  the  offended  operator. 

"  Well,  I  thought  it  was  sort  of  a  shame  to  send 
a  great  long  thing  like  this  to  a  feller  when  he  ain't 
there  to  get  it." 

226 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  Bill  asked  again  sharply, 
and  Hawkins  pressed  forward  again,  fixing  the 
operator  with  his  scowl,  until  he  squirmed  uneasily. 

"  Nothin',  only  there  was  a  feller  by  the  name 
of  Theodore  E.  Burnet  sent  a  message  here  not 
more  than  twenty  minutes  ago.  It  may  not  be  the 
same  one,  but  the  name  was  the  same." 

"  What  did  he  say?  "  demanded  Hawkins. 

"  Oh,  I  can't  tell  that.  But  he  isn't  in  Tresham, 
and  he  won't  be  to-night." 

The  four  looked  at  one  another. 

"  Come  on,"  said  Bill.  "  Thank  you,"  he  added 
to  the  operator,  laying  down  a  coin  for  him.  "  You 
needn't  send  the  message." 

"Well,  what  do  you  know  about  that?"  re- 
marked Durham,  who  had  been  a  silent  onlooker  to 
what  was  going  on. 

"  I  don't  know  anything — but  I'd  like  to  know." 
Bill  relapsed  into  thought. 

Out  on  the  platform  the  fellows  were  still  sing- 
ing, to  the  plain  enjoyment  of  a  small  crowd  that  was 
also  waiting  for  a  train.  The  train  was  almost  due 
now.  Already  the  train  announcer  was  heralding  its 
approach,  and  as  its  light  gleamed  far  up  the  track 
they  all  massed  together  to  give  the  long  Tresham 
yell,  with  a  resounding  "  Sabrina!  Sabrinaf  Sa- 
brlnal "  on  the  end  of  it. 

Suddenly  there  came  an  answering  yell  that 
227 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

turned  the  cheering  into  pandemonium,  and,  com- 
ing from  everywhere,  it  seemed,  there  appeared 
countless  swiftly  moving  figures  who  mingled,  shout- 
ing, with  the  waiting  crowd  just  as  the  train 
pulled  in. 

Bill  felt  his  arm  clutched  from  behind,  and  turned 
to  look  into  the  grinning  face  of  Bobby  Crane, 
Noughty-Odd. 

"  Stung  1  "  remarked  Crane  blithely. 

Bill  tried  to  snatch  away. 

'  What's  the  use  of  scrapping?  "  asked  the  ju- 
nior. "  There  are  as  many  of  us  here  as  there  are  of 
you.  They're  not  going  to  hold  the  train  here  while 
we  fight  it  out,  and  you  people  aren't  going  to  get 
aboard  without  a  fight." 

Bill  did  not  stop  to  dispute  with  him,  for  the 
fight  was  on.  All  up  and  down  the  platform  it  raged, 
while  the  trainsmen  swore  and  respectable  citizens 
appealed  to  the  law  to  open  them  a  passage  to  the 
waiting  cars.  The  law  was  represented  by  only  three 
policemen  who  chanced  to  be  opportunely  near,  but 
they  were  of  brawny  build  and  armed  with  stout 
billies,  and  they  managed  to  clear  a  space  around 
the  car  steps.  At  length  the  train  pulled  out, 
but  the  fight  continued,  until  more  policemen  ar- 
rived and  quelled  it  through  sheer  power  of  hard 
hitting. 

The  combatants  were  some  time  in  becoming 
228 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

quiet,  and  the  blue-coated  guardians  of  the  peace 
were  still  kept  busy  putting  down  individual  fracases, 
with  many  threats  of  arrest  if  the  fighting  was  not 
stopped.  Bill,  with  collar  torn  off  and  hat  gone,  led 
a  small  band  of  dishevelled  ones  to  the  station  wash- 
room, where  he  found  Burnet  nursing  a  bleeding 
nose. 

"  How's  this  for  the  good  old  times,  Bunny?  "  he 
asked  with  an  attempt  to  smile,  that  discovered  to 
him  a  swollen  upper  lip. 

Burnet  was  too  occupied  to  answer,  and  besides, 
Crane,  who  had  perched  on  the  edge  of  the  wash- 
basin, preempted  everybody's  attention  with  his 
crowing. 

"  The  good  old  times  are  back  again,  and  Sabrina 
is  safe  in  the  hands  of  her  rightful  owners  once 
more,"  he  announced  gaily. 

The  sullen  sophomores  would  not  give  him  any 
satisfaction  by  asking  questions,  but  Crane  was  not 
deterred  by  that.  He  went  on  to  give  details  freely 
and  generously. 

"  After  long  years  the  stolen  goddess  is  restored. 
To-morrow  there  will  be  tearing  and  gnashing  in 
New  York  town,  for  you  who  are  expected  will 
not  arrive  and  then  the  great  loss  will  be  dis- 
covered." 

"  Will  you  vacate  a  few  inches  and  give  me  a 
chance  at  this  washbowl?"  interrupted  Hawkins, 
16  229 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

brushing  Crane  from  his  perch  with  an  arm  that 
was  not  wholly  gentle. 

"  Don't  be  so  peevish  about  it,"  retorted  Crane 
mildly.  "  There's  no  use  railing  against  fate,  you 
know;  and  fate  decreed  long  ago  that  your  eyes 
would  never  rest  on  the  fair  Sabrina." 

Bill  turned  and  fled  from  this  gloating  junior. 
He  had  never  found  Crane  tiresome  before,  but  to- 
night he  seemed  absolutely  banal. 

Bill  was  no  unhappier  than  the  rest  of  his  class- 
mates. The  first  fighting  spirit  had  died  down,  but 
the  humiliation  of  defeat  smouldered  and  gathered 
heat,  and  it  was  a  sullen  crowd  that  waited  for  the 
last  train  back  to  Southboro.  For  New  York  and 
the  banquet  was  out  of  the  question  now;  noth- 
ing was  left  but  the  dismal  return  to  Tresham, 
there  to  meet  afresh  the  taunts  and  jibes  of  the  odd- 
classmen. 

How  it  had  happened  was  a  mystery.  The 
sophomores  were  still  too  sore  in  spirit  to  talk  calmly 
with  their  rivals  about  the  matter,  and  the  others, 
taking  their  cue  from  Crane,  insisted  that  it  was  just 
fate.  Sabrina  was  weary  of  captivity,  and  had  re- 
turned to  the  class  of  her  choice  without  human 
agency. 

All  of  which  was  nonsense,  as  Bill  knew  very 
well.  But  he  was  not  able  to  figure  out  anything 
satisfactory  in  place  of  it.  This  sudden  descent  of 

230 


THE   BANQUET   THEY   DIDN'T   HAVE 

odd-classmen  upon  them  could  not  have  been  planned 
very  long  in  advance.  There  had  not  been  long  to 
plan  it  in,  and  someone  would  surely  have  got  wind  of 
it.  They  had  probably  learned  about  the  coming  ban- 
quet when  the  final  instructions  were  passed  around 
that  afternoon.  Anyway,  Sabrina  must  still  be  safe, 
for  she  was  not  to  be  brought  forth  till  the  next  day, 
and  the  cleverest  maneuvering  that  freshmen  and 
juniors  were  capable  of  could  not  get  on  her  track 
till  then. 

Crane's  talk  was  probably  all  hot  air,  with  only 
the  fact  that  their  departure  had  been  discovered  and 
prevented  for  a  basis. 

So  Bill  sent  another  telegram  to  Butt : 

"  Noughty-Odd  has  detained  entire  class  in  Springfield.  Use- 
less to  try  to  come.  They  know  where  we  are  going.  Be 
careful." 

Butt  would  have  to  make  what  he  could  out  of 
that,  and  be  on  his  guard.  There  might  be  some  of 
the  enemy  in  New  York,  but  being  forewarned,  Butt 
and  Meredith  ought  not  to  find  it  hard  to  dodge 
them. 

It  was  not  a  gay  crowd  that  made  extra  cars 
necessary  to  get  back  to  Tresham  from  Southboro 
that  night.  Even  the  anti-Sabrinaites  had  worn 
themselves  weary  with  gloating,  though  they  man- 

231 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

aged  to  muster  up  some  fitful  yelling  when  they 
finally  separated  to  go  to  bed.  But  the  loyal  wor- 
shipers of  the  "  Widow  "  let  them  yell  undisturbed. 
All  their  spirit  was  gone. 

And  Nichols — Freshman  Nichols,  now — was  to 
blame. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE   GODDESS    HERSELF 

NICHOLS  could  no  longer  complain  that  he 
was  not  a  figure  of  some  prominence  in  the 
life  of  Tresham  College — if  he  had  ever 
felt  moved  to  make  such  a  complaint.  On  Wednesday 
morning  a  chapel  announcement  had  brought  him  out 
of  obscurity  and  made  him  talked  about,  but  that  was 
as  nothing  to  the  whirlwind  raised  by  what  became 
known  on  Thursday.  He  was  the  man  who  had  be- 
trayed the  secret  of  the  Sabrina  banquet ! 

Various  people  had  sympathized  with  him  in 
the  matter  of  his  cribbing,  and  hardly  anyone  had 
condemned  him  as  being  anything  worse  than  fool- 
ish. But  now  he  was  an  outcast,  ostracized,  for  he 
was  the  blackest  kind  of  a  traitor. 

Poor  Nichols !  It  was  his  trump  card,  which  he 
had  played  for  the  highest  stake  he  knew — to  be 
looked  on  as  a  loyal  and  true  member  of  the  new 
class  into  which  he  had  been  thrust.  It  had  not 
been  deliberate;  it  had  come  to  him  as  a  sort  of 
inspiration,  which  he  had  hugged  to  himself  as  a 

233 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

sign  from  Heaven,  pointing  the  way  to  trust  and 
honor.  Everything  seemed  to  help  him.  Chanler 
had  taken  particular  pains  to  inform  him  of  where 
the  banquet  was  to 'be,  and  the  committee  had  sought 
him  out  and  told  him  when  they  were  to  leave  just 
as  if  he  had  still  been  a  regular  sophomore.  But  he 
wasn't  still  a  sophomore,  which  let  him  out  according 
to  his  way  of  thinking,  and  he  was  glad  he  wasn't. 
Anyone  else  with  the  information  he  had  would  be 
justified  in  revealing  it — so  was  he ! 

Some  instinct  warned  him,  however,  that  Bur- 
net  was  not  the  man  to  tell.  Instead,  he  went  to 
Rowson,  and  the  deed  was  done.  No  one  stopped  to 
examine  the  source  of  the  information.  For  the 
present  the  joyous  excitement  of  having  it  was 
enough,  especially  as  it  was  very  easily  verified  by 
watching  the  sly  maneuvers  of  the  sophomores. 
The  juniors  immediately  assumed  the  leadership; 
a  half  dozen  of  them  straightway  left  for  New  York, 
on  the  chance  of  taking  the  guardians  by  surprise 
with  the  statue  in  their  possession,  and  the  rest, 
reinforced  by  many  freshmen,  slipped  quietly  away 
to  Springfield  to  surprise  the  banqueters  in  the  first 
flush  of  their  jubilation. 

It  worked,  and  the  plans  of  the  sophomores  were 
effectually  spoiled.  It  was  good  fun  into  the  bargain, 
and  Burnet  rejoiced  in  the  return  of  the  old-time 
spirit.  In  his  enthusiasm  he  had  sent  a  long  telegram 

234 


THE    GODDESS    HERSELF 

to  an  odd-class  alumnus  he  knew  in  New  York,  who 
was  still  young  enough  to  enjoy  going  out  on  the 
trail  of  Sabrina,  telling  him  where  the  banquet  was 
to  be  held  and  bidding  him  get  on  the  job. 

But  the  next  morning,  when  the  excitement  had 
somewhat  abated,  people  began  to  ask  how  the  thing 
had  been  discovered.  The  particulars  became  known 
in  short  order,  and  straightway  Nichols  became  tre- 
mendously unpopular.  "  Once  a  Sabrina  man,  al- 
ways a  Sabrina  man  "  turned  out  to  be  a  pretty 
general  sentiment  in  the  odd  as  well  as  the  even 
classes,  and  there  was  hardly  a  fellow  that  did  not 
condemn  Nichols's  action.  It  wasn't  playing  fair, 
it  was  bidding  for  popularity  at  the  cost  of  honor  and 
decency  and  everything  else,  and  even  Burnet  turned 
against  him. 

"  How  could  you  do  it?  "  he  demanded  disgust- 
edly. "  Butt  trusted  you.  He  went  out  of  his 
way  to  fix  things  so  you  could  go,  because  he  was 
sorry  for  you.  It  was  your  last  chance:  your  last 
chance  was  even  gone,  but  he  gave  it  back  to  you 
when  you  had  been  kicked  out  of  his  class !  " 

"  What  did  I  care  about  their  old  banquet  and 
their  old  statue?  He  didn't  need  to  tell  me  about  it. 
I  never  asked  him  to,"  protested  Nichols,  bewildered 
and  hurt  by  the  storm  that  had  burst  about  him. 
"  If  you'd  got  wind  of  it  you'd  have  told.  Any  of 
you  would." 

235 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  Not  if  I'd  been  in  your  place.  We  want  to 
get  that  statue,  but  we'd  be  sports  about  it.  We 
wouldn't  have  betrayed  any  trust  like  that." 

"  I'm  a  freshman,  and  I  did  it  for  my  class." 

"  There's  no  use  talking  about  it,"  said  Burnet 
shortly,  and  he  would  talk  no  more. 

Altogether,  Nichols  was  "  in  "  decidedly  wrong. 
He  was  misunderstood  on  every  hand,  and  turn 
where  he  might  he  could  find  no  sympathy  that  was 
worth  the  having.  All  the  friendly  feeling  and  good- 
will he  had  got  with  so  much  difficulty  was  dashed 
away  in  one  swoop,  and,  most  heart-breaking  of 
all,  Burnet  would  have  no  more  to  do  with  him. 
Beside  that,  even  the  things  that  Chanler  said  to 
him  did  not  matter,  and  Butt  came  to  him  in  a 
white  heat  of  rage  and  gave  him  such  a  tongue- 
lashing  as  he  had  never  heard  before.  Butt  did 
not  often  get  angry,  but  this  betrayal  of  confidence 
stirred  him  to  the  depths  and  tipped  his  tongue  with 
a  stinging  eloquence  that  ought  to  have  left  Nichols 
scorched  and  done  for. 

Butt  was  pretty  well  broken  up  over  the  turn 
things  had  taken.  Not  only  had  the  banquet  been  a 
fizzle,  which  was  shame  enough  in  itself,  but  he  came 
in  for  a  small  share  of  criticism  for  trusting  such  a 
man  as  Nichols,  knowing  all  the  particulars  as  he 
had.  That  did  not  last  long,  for  most  of  the  fellows 
soon  came  to  understand  the  spirit  in  which  he  had 

236 


THE   GODDESS   HERSELF 

done  it,  but  the  fact  remained  that  he  had  made  a 
mistake,  and  that  was  a  hurt  to  his  self-esteem  he 
could  not  quickly  forget. 

After  all,  aside  from  the  fact  that  the  banquet 
had  to  be  postponed  and  all  the  plans  made  again, 
the  harm  done  was  not  serious.  The  juniors  who 
had  hastened  so  confidently  to  New  York,  as  well  as 
the  alumnus  to  whom  Burnet  had  sent  his  urgent 
telegram,  had  failed  absolutely  to  find  any  trace  of 
Sabrina's  whereabouts.  She  was  as  safe  as  ever, 
apparently,  and  the  odd-classmen  were  no  nearer  to 
getting  her  than  they  had  been  before. 

But  interest  in  the  bronze  goddess  had  been 
effectually  stimulated.  She  was  more  talked  about 
than  she  had  been  for  years,  and  Burnet  had  hopes 
that  the  old  spirit  had  returned  really  to  stay.  The 
Sabrina  war  chant  was  sung  and  hooted  at  with  a 
vim  that  was  very  far  from  perfunctory,  and  that 
rumpus  on  the  platform  of  the  Springfield  station 
had  provided  a  taste  of  battle  that  sharpened  the  ap- 
petite for  more.  The  odd-classmen  had  successfully 
frustrated  an  attempt  at  a  banquet — something  that 
had  not  been  done  for  so  long  that  no  one  remem- 
bered its  like — and  that  made  them  feel  that  per- 
haps it  wasn't  such  a  hopeless  struggle  after  all. 
If  only  they  were  given  half  a  chance  the  real, 
ancient  rivalry  might  be  worth  reviving  again. 

The  Sabrina  men  had  to  endure  many  taunts 
237 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

about  the  banquet  they  didn't  have,  but  that  was  not 
the  end  of  the  taunting.  Challenges  began  to  be 
issued  to  bring  the  goddess  into  reachable  territory 
— to  hold  the  banquet  somewhere  where  distance 
was  not  the  only  thing  to  protect  them,  where  to 
pull  it  off  successfully  would  mean  a  real  triumph  of 
cleverness. 

Bill  allied  himself  with  this  campaign,  for  he 
agreed  thoroughly  with  Burnet  that  there  was  no 
credit  in  keeping  the  statue  locked  up  in  a  safe- 
deposit  vault  and  having  the  banquet  in  a  place  so 
far  away  that  pursuit  was  out  of  the  question.  He 
argued  the  matter  with  Butt  and  other  sophomores, 
but  while  some  of  them  admitted  that  he  was  quite 
right,  theoretically,  they  were  all  inclined  to  agree 
that  safety  was  more  to  be  desired  than  any  amount 
of  "  old-time  spirit." 

"  Just  imagine  that  you  had  charge  of  her,"  said 
Butt.  "  You'd  give  up  those  ideas  in  a  minute.  It's 
all  right  to  talk,  but  if  you  were  responsible  for  her 
you'd  see  that  she  was  in  the  very  safest  place  you 
could  find.  If  a  safe-deposit  vault  seemed  the  best 
place,  you'd  put  her  there." 

"  No,  sir!  "  protested  Bill.  "  Why,  that  takes 
every  particle  of  sport  away  from  it!  It's  just  like 
playing  with  loaded  dice — you  can't  lose,  and  what's 
the  fun  when  the  other  fellow  hasn't  even  a  smell  of 
a  chance?  " 

238 


THE   GODDESS    HERSELF 

"  I  don't  know.    I  never  played  with  dice." 

Bill  snorted. 

"  That's  no  argument.  You  know  what  I 
mean." 

"  Of  course  I  do.  But  I  know  what  I  mean, 
too.  Think  if  she  got  away  from  you !  You'd  never 
hear  the  last  of  it,  and  it  wouldn't  be  any  joke  either. 
Every  Sabrina  man  in  the  country  would  be  jumping 
on  you.  You'd  never  live  it  down." 

"Shucks!  Do  you  suppose  any  Sabrina  man 
thinks  seriously  about  it  one  way  or  the  other  after 
he  gets  out  of  college?  He  might  think  the  man 
that  lost  her  wasn't  on  to  his  job,  but  what  would  he 
care?" 

"  You  don't  know  what  Sabrina  spirit  is,"  re- 
plied Butt  shortly. 

"  Now  look  here,  Butt !  That  sort  of  talk  is  all 
right  sometimes,  but  just  tell  me  honestly  and  seri- 
ously, do  you  think  Sabrina  amounts  to  anything 
really?  This  hot  air  about  spirit  and  that  sort  of 
thing  sounds  well,  but  does  it  really  mean  anything? 
The  whole  business  is  a  good  custom.  If  I  were  a 
kid  and  heard  about  it  I  think  I'd  come  to  Tresham 
just  because  they  have  it  here.  But  I'm  a  Sabrina 
man  just  as  much  as  you  are,  and  if  there's  anything 
in  it  besides  an  excuse  for  a  friendly  scrap  and  a 
good  banquet,  I  haven't  found  it  out  yet." 

"  I  told  you  you  didn't  know  what  Sabrina  spirit 
239 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

was,"  Butt  repeated.     Bill  threw  back  his  head  im- 
patiently. 

"  There  isn't  any — that's  the  trouble,"  he  cried. 
"  And  there  would  be  if  you  weren't  so  blamed 
scared  about  nothing.  I  tell  you  if  I  had  charge  of 
her  I'd  hide  her  right  here  in  this  town,  and  after 
I'd  handed  her  over  to  the  next  man  I'd  tell  about  it, 
and  show  'em  what  a  lot  of  dummies  they'd  been  not 
to  get  on  to  it." 

Butt  smiled,  a  very  superior  smile. 
'  That  would  sound  mighty  well,  if  you  could 
do  it.     But  I  know  you  wouldn't  dare,  when  it  came 
right  down  to  it.    The  way  they  do  now  is  the  only 
safe  way." 

Bill  tightened  up  his  eyes  into  a  quizzical  look. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Sabrina  has  been  hidden 
this  year?"  he  asked. 

"  No." 

"  What  if  I  told  you  that  I  did  know?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  believe  you." 

"  Well,  I  won't  tell  you  that.  But  I'll  tell  you 
something  else.  I  know  who  had  her  hidden." 

Butt  smiled  again,  unbelievingly. 

"Who?" 

"  Effie  Colchester." 

Butt  stared. 

"  Who  told  you?  "  he  demanded. 

It  was  Bill's  turn  to  smile  now. 
240 


THE   GODDESS   HERSELE 

11  No  one." 

"  How  do  you  know,  then?  " 

"  I  just  happened  to  find  out." 

"  Does  anybody  else  know?  " 

"  I  haven't  told  anybody,  if  that's  what  you 
mean.  I  suppose  Meredith  knows.  I  don't  know 
of  anybody  else." 

"  But  how  did  you  find  out?  " 

"  Oh,  I  have  ways,"  answered  Bill  mysteriously. 

Butt  looked  thoroughly  uncomfortable. 

"You  shouldn't  have  done  that,  Bill!  "  he  ex- 
claimed earnestly.  "  It  isn't  a  joke,  and  it  isn't  any 
of  your  business." 

"  Oh,  I  know  that,  but  I  couldn't  help  it.  I'm 
not  to  blame  for  having  ears  and  eyes." 

"  What  did  I  tell  you?  "  demanded  Butt.  "  That 
proves  your  theory  about  having  her  right  around 
here  is  no  good.  If  she  were  here  in  Tresham 
you'd  have  found  out  even  where  she  was.  Perhaps 
you  do  know?  "  he  added,  suspiciously. 

"  No,  I  don't  know." 

"  But  someone  else  might,  if  they'd  found  out 
as  much  as  you  have.  Don't  you  see  it's  no  game?  " 

"  I  don't  think  anyone  else  would  be  likely  to 
find  out  what  I  did.  I  just  happened  upon  it,  any- 
way, and  I  had  chances  that  a  fellow  who  wasn't  a 
Sabrina  man  wouldn't  have  had." 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  about  it?  " 
241 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

'  There  isn't  anything  to  tell  especially.  I 
saw  Effie  with  Meredith  two  or  three  times,  in  sort 
of  secret  conference,  and  you  know  Effie  and 
Meredith  aren't  very  great  chums.  I  just  put  two 
and  two  together  and  guessed  the  answer,  and  then, 
when  I  came  across  another  two,  I  added  that  on. 
Meredith  and  Effie  were  in  New  York  together 
Christmas,  and  you  yourself  told  me  there  was  some- 
thing doing  then,  and  then  Effie  left  here  for  the 
banquet  early.  It  made  a  pretty  good  chain  of  evi- 
dence, taking  everything." 

Bill  was  not  yet  ready  to  tell  the  tale  of  the 
empty  box  in  Colchester's  barn.  That  was  an  inci- 
dent which  other  people  might  see  as  a  good  joke, 
but  the  experience  was  too  recent  to  be  a  laughing 
matter  with  him. 

"  Well,"  was  Butt's  final  comment,  "  it  all  goes 
to  show  that  I'm  right  and  you're  wrong,"  so  both 
remained  unconvinced. 

Bill  was  so  unconvinced,  in  fact,  that  he  joined 
forces  with  Burnet  in  ridiculing  the  attitude  of  the 
sophomores.  The  result  of  their  combined  efforts 
appeared  one  morning  tacked  to  one  of  the  pillars  in 
front  of  the  chapel — a  huge  poster  whose  drawing 
was  very  crude  but  whose  meaning  was  perfectly 
plain.  It  represented  an  hilarious  feast,  with  a  piti- 
ful caricature  of  Sabrina  adorning  the  center  of  the 
table,  held  in  a  sort  of  fortress,  protected  on  all 

242 


THE    GODDESS    HERSELF 

sides  by  huge  cannon.  Militia  patrolled  the  street 
outside  and  at  each  door  stood  a  phalanx  of  gigantic 
policemen.  Beneath  it  was  printed  in  sprawling 
capitals :  "  None  but  the  brave  deserve  the  fair." 

This  masterpiece  did  not  stay  on  view  for  long. 
After  a  five-minute  tussle  some  sophomores  suc- 
ceeded in  tearing  it  down.  But  it  served  as  the  be- 
ginning of  other  things  of  the  same  kind,  and  for  a 
time  the  Noughty-Even  men  made  a  regular  tour  of 
inspection  every  morning  to  destroy  scurrilous  post- 
ers that  had  been  put  up  overnight.  Bill  had  no 
share  in  them  after  the  first  one,  but  he  had  started 
the  ball  rolling,  and  the  freshmen  and  juniors  kept  it 
up  with  increasing  ingenuity.  People  began  almost 
to  believe  that  the  Sabrina  men  were  a  timid  lot  after 
all. 

Winter  wore  on  to  spring,  with  intermittent  pe- 
riods of  Sabrina  enthusiasm  when  the  odd-classmen 
succeeded  in  perpetrating  some  jibe  that  was  partic- 
ularly stinging  and  their  rivals  attempted  to  retaliate. 
But  the  banquet  had  not  yet  come  off,  nor  were  there 
any  immediate  prospects  of  it.  The  juniors  and 
freshmen  began  to  hint  very  loudly  that  it  was  not  to 
be  this  year — the  sophomores  had  been  scared  into 
giving  up  the  idea  entirely. 

One  day  Bill  came  into  the  Kappa  Chi  house 
bearing  the  latest  achievement  of  the  juniors  in  his 
hands.  It  was  only  a  small  card,  printed  in  pen-and- 

243 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

ink,  which  he  had  happened  to  see  on  the  bulletin 
board  in  the  post-office  before  it  had  attracted  gen- 
eral attention,  bearing  the  announcement  that  all 
Sabrina  men  were  to  be  in  Boston  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  following  day,  where  they  would  be  met  by 
the  United  States  battleship  Connecticut,  which 
would  take  them  to  Key  West  for  their  banquet. 

It  was  one  of  the  first  pleasant  spring  days,  and 
he  found  no  one  in  the  house  but  Colchester,  who 
was  at  the  piano  giving  vent  to  a  pensive  mood  in 
soft  and  dreamy  melodies.  To  him  Bill  showed  the 
card. 

Colchester  was  not  pleased  at  this  interruption  of 
his  music,  and  he  looked  at  the  card  disdainfully. 

;<  That's  about  the  poorest  yet,"  he  observed, 
handing  it  back.  "  I  should  think  they'd  get  tired 
of  that  sort  of  thing  by  this  time.  They  said  all  they 
could  say  long  ago,"  and  he  turned  back  to  the 
piano. 

Bill  tossed  the  card  into  the  fireplace. 

"  It  is  pretty  poor,"  he  assented.  "  But  say, 
Effie,  why  don't  you  get  back  at  them?  They  say 
we  don't  even  dare  to  have  the  banquet  now." 

"  Don't  ask  me.  Butt  Chanler  has  that  to  look 
out  for." 

"  I  don't  mean  the  banquet  especially.  Why 
don't  you  pull  off  some  stunt  that  would  show  'em 
we're  not  afraid?  " 

244 


THE   GODDESS   HERSELF 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me  to  pull  off  stunts?  That 
sort  of  thing  is  up  to  your  class." 

"  But  we  haven't  got  the  statue  yet." 

Colchester  answered  merely  with  an  inquiring 
look. 

"  And  you  have,"  went  on  Bill. 

"  Go  to  Meredith,  then." 

Bill  sat  down  on  the  window-seat  facing  the 
piano  and  leaned  forward  earnestly. 

"  You  know  Meredith  wouldn't  be  game  for 
anything  that  was  a  bit  different  from  the  same  old 
thing  that's  always  been  done.  Butt  wouldn't,  either, 
if  there  was  any  risk  in  it." 

Colchester  laid  his  hands  on  the  keys  and  struck 
into  another  tune. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you're  going  to  do  about  it, 
then." 

"  Please  cut  out  that  drumming  and  stop  trying 
to  bluff  me.  It's  you  that  can  do  something." 

"What  can  I  do?"  Colchester  was  serenely 
continuing  to  play. 

"  Anything  you  want  to.  You  know  where  the 
statue  is." 

If  Bill  was  expecting  Colchester  to  show  surprise, 
he  was  disappointed.  Effie  continued  his  tune  to  the 
end,  struck  a  leisurely  final  chord,  and  then  turned 
around  on  the  piano  stool. 

"  How  long  have  you  known  that?  "  he  asked. 
17  245 


THE    NEW   SOPHOMORE 

"  Since  Thanksgiving  time." 

Colchester  said  nothing  for  a  moment.  He 
was  thinking. 

"  There  wouldn't  be  any  object  in  denying  it  to 
you,  so  I  won't  do  it.  I  suppose  you  found  it  out 
some  time  on  that  trip  of  the  Musical  Clubs.  But 
I  would  like  to  know  how  much  else  you  know." 

Bill  flushed  uncomfortably. 

"  I  don't  really  know  anything  else.  I  think  you 
had  her  hidden  in  your  barn — for  a  while  anyway. 
I — I  made  a  visit  to  your  barn  the  night  of  the 
concert  there.  That  was  why  I  got  home  before  the 
rest  of  you  did." 

Colchester's  big  face  wrinkled  into  a  smile. 

"  You  didn't  find  anything,  did  you?  " 

"  An  empty  box,"  said  Bill,  his  flush  deepening. 

Colchester  dropped  his  smile  and  spoke  seriously. 

"  I  suppose  you  did  it  just  to  see  if  you  could 
really  find  it,  as  a  sort  of  detective  stunt.  I  remem- 
ber I  thought  of  something  like  that  at  the  time. 
Mildred  got  you  pretty  fussed  by  talking  about  it, 
and  I  thought  then  that  perhaps  there  was  some 
such  bug  floating  around  in  your  head,  but  I  didn't 
suppose  it  amounted  to  so  much.  Didn't  I  say  some- 
thing to  you  about  it  ?  " 

"  You  told  me  to  remember  that  Sabrina  men 
always  stood  together.  I  felt  pretty  bad  about  that. 
I  thought  you  didn't  think  I  could  be  trusted." 

246 


THE    GODDESS    HERSELF 

"  Oh,  no !  I  just  meant  that  as  a  little  hint 
to  mind  your  own  business,  to  put  it  baldly.  You 
know  the  best  way  to  stand  by  me,  if  you  did  think  I 
was  the  senior  guardian,  was  not  to  think  any  more 
about  it." 

;'  Well,  I  did  try  not  to,  but  so  many  things  hap- 
pened that  simply  made  me  think !  Your  being  with 
Meredith  so  much  just  about  that  time,  and  the  note 
he  sent  you  that  you  went  around  the  corner  to  read 
and  then  tore  up,  and  your  being  out  in  the  barn  with 
a  hammer  and  sending  that  telegram  after  the  con- 
cert  " 

He  broke  off,  stopped  by  the  piercing  look  from 
under  Colchester's  lowered  brows. 

u  You  are  an  observing  person,  Bill,"  he  re- 
marked slowly. 

Bill  flushed  again  and  a  hot,  stinging  feeling 
came  to  his  eyes. 

"  I  wasn't  spying  on  you !  "  he  cried.  "  I  was 
going  to,  but  I  remembered  what  a  rotten  thing  it 
was  to  do,  and  I  didn't !  I  know  it  looks  funny,  my 
knowing  all  those  things,  but  it  was  just  accident. 
I  was  out  on  the  street  having  a  smoke  before  the 
dance,  when  I  saw  you  go  into  the  telegraph  office, 
and  I  saw  Tod  Smith  give  you  that  note  from 
Meredith  on  the  car.  I  did  watch  to  see  when  you 
read  it,  though.  But  right  after  that  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  forget  the  whole  business,  and  then  I  lost 

247 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

my  head  and  forgot  everything  but  that,  I  got  so 
excited  over  the  idea  of  finding  that  statue.  But  I 
was  so  ashamed  of  it  all  afterwards  that  I  never  told 
a  soul  about  it." 

Colchester  was  smiling  again. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  spoke  that  way.  I  didn't  mean 
that  I  thought  you  were  doing  anything  to  be 
ashamed  of.  And  after  all,  there's  no  harm  done. 
You  didn't  find  her:  you  couldn't  have,  even  if  you'd 
been  lots  luckier  than  you  were.  Some  time  I'll  tell 
you  why.  But  I'll  tell  you  now  that  all  this  talk 
about  safe-deposit  vaults  is  rot.  Sabrina's  in  just 
the  kind  of  a  place  they're  howling  that  she  ought  to 
be  in.  They'd  have  a  fit  if  they  knew  where.  But 
they  stand  about  as  much  show  of  finding  her  as  they 
would  if  she  were  up  at  the  North  Pole." 

Bill  received  this  with  a  momentary  silence,  not 
unmixed  with  chagrin,  for  he  had  been  one  of  these 
"  howlers,"  and  he  had  been  as  greatly  fooled  as 
any  of  them.  But  he  was  not  long  in  returning  to  the 
point  of  his  original  attack. 

"  You  agree  with  me,  then,  don't  you,  about 
keeping  things  alive  and  not  letting  them  become 
nothing  but  a  dried-up  old  tradition?  " 

"  Sure ;  I'll  prove  it  to  you  when  I  can  tell  you 
some  things  I  can't  tell  you  now." 

"  Then,  Effie,  listen  here !  Why  won't  you  do 
something?  Bring  Sabrina  into  town  or  something 

248 


THE   GODDESS    HERSELF 

like  that,  and  flaunt  her  in  their  faces !  It  could  be 
done,  and  it  would  be  the  greatest  thing  that's  been 
pulled  off  here  for  years !  " 

"Now  don't  talk  nonsense,  Bill!  I  don't  own 
her,  and  I  can't  do  anything  I  want  to  with  her. 
Meredith  would  jump  off  the  chapel  tower  before 
he'd  consent  to  any  such  stunt  as  that." 

Bill  sniffed  contemptuously. 

"  Meredith's  an  old  woman!  " 

"No,  he  isn't:  he's  a  mighty  good  leader  and 
manager.  He  wouldn't  be  the  president  of  our 
class  if  he  weren't.  I  haven't  much  more  use  for  him 
personally  than  you  have,  but  I  know  that  he's  an 
able  fellow  and  has  good  sense.  I  wouldn't  do 
anything  he  was  against." 

"  If  he's  got  good  sense  he  won't  be  against  it. 
You  just — " 

"  Oh,  you  Effie  Colchester!  "  came  a  shout  from 
the  front  lawn.  "  O — oh,  you  E/-fie !  " 

"  It's  Tod  Smith,"  said  Bill,  glancing  out  the 
window.  Colchester  put  his  head  out  to  see  what 
was  wanted. 

"  Come  on  out  and  hear  the  grass  grow,"  called 
Smith.  "  What  do  you  want  to  stay  in  the  house  for 
a  day  like  this?  " 

"  I'll  be  out  in  a  minute,"  Effie  called  back.  "  I 
think  your  idea  is  a  crazy  one,"  he  added  to  Bill, 
drawing  his  head  in  again.  "  But  that  makes  me  sort 

249 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

of  like  it.    I  don't  think  anything  of  the  kind  will  go 
through,  but  I'll  talk  to  Merry  about  it." 

And  he  did.  As  he  expected,  Meredith  flouted 
it.  It  was  unheard  of,  and  it  was  unsafe,  and  if  it 
failed,  as  it  was  sure  to  do,  they  never  could  square 
themselves  with  the  class  again.  But  Colchester, 
having  once  broached  the  idea,  grew  stronger  for  it, 
and  stronger  still  in  the  face  of  opposition.  Butt 
Chanler  was  called  in  as  a  representative  of  the  next 
even-year  class,  and  the  arguments  were  all  gone 
over  again.  Butt  was  inclined  toward  the  conserva- 
tive views  of  Meredith. 

"  That  sounds  like  one  of  Ridge  Bill's  schemes," 
was  his  first  comment. 

"  It's  a  silly  scheme,"  said  Meredith. 

"  There  couldn't  be  anything  sillier  than  the  way 
we've  sat  around  and  let  those  juniors  and  freshmen 
poke  fun  at  us  for  the  last  two  months,"  Colchester 
rejoined.  "  It's  all  right  for  us  to  keep  a  dignified 
silence  when  they  call  us  'f raid-cats,  and  say  they're 
foolish  children  who  know  not  whereof  they  speak, 
but  the  fact  remains  that  they  really  are  getting  to 
believe  what  they  say,  and  that's  no  game  at  all.  We 
don't  want  to  go  out  of  this  college  with  a  reputation 
like  that,  whether  we  deserve  it  or  not,  and  here's 
a  chance  to  prove  they're  mistaken  and  at  the  same 
time  show  'em  they're  not  nearly  so  smart  as  they 
think  they  are." 

250 


THE   GODDESS    HERSELF 

That  was  the  gist  of  his  argument,  which  he 
amplified  and  reinforced  with  an  ardor  that  finally 
silenced  them  both.  The  sight  of  Effie  Colchester 
forsaking  his  slow  and  easy-going  ways  to  be  really 
enthusiastic  and  insistent  about  anything  was  unusual 
enough  in  itself  to  have  some  effect.  And  he  kept  at 
it  till  he  won  them  over. 

"  It's  simply  up  to  you,"  said  Meredith,  still 
reluctant  in  spite  of  his  consent.  "  Perhaps  you  can 
do  it,  but  don't  blame  anybody  else  if  you  make  a  big 
fizzle  of  it." 

"  Let's  forget  that  and  get  down  to  business," 
rejoined  Colchester,  intent  on  completing  plans  and 
carrying  them  out  right  away.  And  the  next  hour 
was  spent  in  a  discussion  of  "  hows  "  and  "  whens," 
that  finally  made  even  Meredith  wake  up  and  take 
interest,  and  left  Butt  thoroughly  enthusiastic. 

The  general  outline  of  procedure  was  decided 
upon,  but  a  lot  of  the  details  depended  on  other 
things  that  needed  investigation.  Another  confer- 
ence was  held  in  the  evening  in  Bill's  room,  where 
they  were  less  likely  to  be  interrupted.  Bill  had 
been  the  real  instigator  of  the  affair,  and  Colchester 
insisted  that  he  should  have  a  share  in  the  planning. 

When  the  meeting  finally  broke  up  everything 
was  arranged.  It  was  only  necessary  to  let  one  other 
senior  into  the  plot  and  get  him  to  help. 

"  But  that's  as  good  as  sure  already,"  Colchester 

251 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

assured  them.  "  Phil  Sands  will  be  game  for  any- 
thing, and  he'd  mortgage  everything  he's  got  to  help 
pull  off  a  stunt  like  this." 

As  it  turned  out,  Sands  was  "  game."  The 
principal  reason  that  made  him  indispensable  was 
that  he  owned  an  automobile,  which  he  placed  freely 
at  their  service,  but  in  addition  to  that  he  had  sug- 
gestions to  offer  that  proved  he  was  an  excellent 
addition  to  the  committee,  and  he  had  a  summer 
home  that  was  just  the  place  to  retreat  to  afterwards. 

Many  more  had  to  be  taken  into  confidence  later, 
and  they  decided  that  on  the  day  the  great  event 
itself  was  to  come  off  every  Sabrina  man  in  college 
was  to  be  notified,  so  they  could  be  on  hand  in  case 
of  trouble.  Colchester,  Meredith  and  Butt  were  to 
be  the  chief  actors,  with  Sands  to  run  the  machine  for 
them,  and  Bill  was  to  be  a  sort  of  home  guard  with 
about  twenty  other  seniors  and  sophomores  to  help 
him. 

They  had  to  wait  nearly  two  weeks  for  a  time 
that  seemed  to  them  wholly  suitable.  The  early 
coming  of  spring  helped  them,  but  it  was  necessary 
to  have  the  roads  fairly  well  dried  up  before  they 
were  willing  to  put  their  plan  into  execution.  The 
last  snow  had  gone  nearly  a  month  ago,  but  the  frost 
in  the  ground  still  kept  the  fields  and  roadways 
muddy. 

At  last  came  a  day  when  it  was  announced  in 
252 


THE   GODDESS   HERSELF 

chapel  that  the  first  outdoor  practice  of  the  baseball 
team  would  take  place  that  afternoon.  Up  to  then 
they  had  practiced  only  in  the  cage.  Colchester 
looked  at  the  sky,  consulted  the  weather  forecasts, 
and  said  that  the  time  had  come.  Everything  com- 
bined to  make  this  just  the  day  they  had  been  waiting 
for,  and  shortly  after  chapel  Sands's  car,  with  Col- 
chester, Meredith  and  Chanler  in  it,  left  town  by  the 
north  road,  away  from  the  college. 

Then  the  "  home  guard  "  did  what  had  fallen 
to  their  share.  Those  who  already  knew  the  plans 
made  all  in  readiness,  while  the  news  was  spread 
among  the  other  even-classmen  that  Sabrina  was 
coming  to  town  that  afternoon.  She  would  be  visible 
for  a  very  brief  time  on  the  baseball  field,  and  they 
were  to  be  on  hand  to  welcome  and  defend  her. 
Also  they  were  to  urge,  in  a  casual  way,  as  many 
odd-classmen  as  possible  to  be  present  without  tell- 
ing them  any  particular  reason  for  it.  By  simply 
getting  up  a  little  enthusiasm  for  the  first  baseball 
practice  of  the  season,  making  it  seem  a  matter  of 
giving  the  team  a  good  send-off,  they  could  gather 
crowd  enough  to  insure  a  good-sized  audience. 

Hawkins  and  McCarthy  were  among  the  sopho- 
mores that  constituted  the  "  home  guard."  They 
went  down  to  Bill's  room  after  the  midday  meal, 
where  they  tried  to  sit  down  and  wait  patiently 
for  the  hours  to  pass.  McCarthy,  being  a  pitcher 

253 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

on  the  team,  would  be  on  the  field  with  the  other 
players  when  the  big  event  occurred,  and  his  part  was 
to  command  the  protective  squad  on  the  diamond 
and  see  that  a  clear  track  was  open  for  the  automo- 
bile when  it  approached.  Hawkins  was  to  be  one 
of  the  guards  at  the  gate,  a  position  of  importance 
but  rather  too  far  from  the  real  center  of  action  to 
suit  him  entirely. 

"  You  fellows  are  going  to  have  all  the  fun," 
he  grumbled.  "  I'll  be  lucky  if  I  can  even  see  the 
doings  from  a  distance.  I  don't  see  why  they 
couldn't  have  put  me  with  you:  that's  where  the 
scrap  will  be  if  there  is  one,  and  I  can  scrap  better 
than  I  can  do  anything  else." 

"  You'll  get  all  the  scrapping  you  want  guarding 
that  gate  after  the  machine  has  passed  out,"  said 
Bill.  "  You've  got  to  hold  the  fort  and  let  them 
get  away  without  anybody's  following." 

"  What'll  you  be  doing  all  this  time?  " 

"  Scouting.  I'm  going  to  get  Bobby  Crane's 
motorcycle  and  float  around  on  that.  It'll  keep  it 
away  from  him,  and  give  me  an  advantage  over  the 
people  on  foot  if  anything  should  happen  so  I'd  want 
to  get  away  fast." 

"  I  wish  three  o'clock  would  hurry  up  and  get 
here,"  said  McCarthy,  pulling  out  his  watch  for 
about  the  'steenth  time. 

Three  o'clock  was  a  long  time  coming.  Even 
254 


THE   GODDESS    HERSELF 

then  there  would  be  an  hour  to  wait,  but  at  three 
Butt  was  going  to  telephone  if  all  was  well  with  the 
approaching  goddess.  They  went  over  to  the  house 
to  await  his  message,  which  arrived  in  due  course, 
and  then  repaired  to  the  field. 

So  great  a  crowd,  merely  for  baseball  practice, 
might  well  have  caused  remark,  for  the  Sabrina  men, 
by  each  waylaying  an  odd-classman  and  carelessly 
suggesting  that  they  see  how  the  team  was  showing 
up,  had  succeeded  in  having  over  three-quarters  of 
the  college  present.  But  remarks,  even  if  they  were 
made,  did  not  develop  into  suspicion  that  anything 
unusual  was  to  take  place,  and  the  crowd  settled 
themselves  in  the  bleachers  or  around  the  edge  of  the 
diamond  just  as  if  they  had  come  to  watch  a  game. 

McCarthy  and  the  others  of  the  squad  who 
knew  what  was  coming  hurried  up  the  practice  so 
that  it  began  shortly  after  half-past  three,  and  the 
senior  cheer-leader  started  some  singing  and  yelling 
so  that  the  fellows  would  be  kept  with  something  to 
do  during  the  intervening  half  hour. 

"  It's  a  good  time  for  us  to  practice,  too,"  he 
told  them.  "  Now,  a  long  yell  for  the  team !  Hip, 
hip " 

No  one  not  in  the  secret  noticed  that  at  the  main 
gate  lingered  a  little  squad  of  seniors  and  sopho- 
mores. At  the  other  entrance,  away  across  the  field 
on  the  Southboro  road  and  partly  out  of  sight  of  the 

255 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

bleachers,  was  another.  Through  this  the  automo- 
bile was  to  make  its  entrance. 

Bill  had  borrowed  Crane's  motorcycle,  as  he 
had  often  done  before,  and  was  serenely  chugging 
around  the  cinder  track,  feeling  like  a  member  of 
the  mounted  police.  His  eyes,  when  they  were  not 
watching  the  Southboro  gate,  kept  looking  up  to  the 
chapel  clock,  plainly  visible  over  the  leafless  trees. 
There  was  only  five  minutes  to  wait  now. 

Suddenly  he  caught  sight  of  an  automobile  ap- 
proaching the  main  gate  and  sent  his  machine  flying 
over  to  meet  it.  What  had  happened  to  cause  this 
change  of  plan?  The  men  on  the  bleachers  had  not 
seen  it  yet,  for  the  grand  stand  stood  in  their  way. 
Then,  as  the  guard  threw  open  the  gate,  he  saw  that 
it  was  someone  else — a  junior  named  Morrison,  wav- 
ing his  hand  gayly  as  he  steered  by  the  little  crowd, 
who  stared  at  one  another  in  consternation. 

"  Bill !  "  cried  Hawkins,  running  up  excitedly. 
"  You've  got  to  meet  them  and  warn  them  that 
Morry  has  his  machine  here.  He  can  follow 
them!" 

"  That's  up  to  you !  "  said  Bill  as  he  turned 
around.  "  You  mustn't  let  him  through  the  gate !  " 

The  men  on  the  bleachers,  in  the  midst  of  their 
singing,  suddenly  heard  a  "  Honk !  Honk !  "  behind 
them  and  turned,  startled.  Morrison  had  passed 
behind  the  grand  stand  unseen  and  drawn  up  in  the 

256 


THE    GODDESS    HERSELF 

track  directly  back  of  them.  For  an  instant  they 
thought  it  was  Meredith  and  one  or  two  let  out  a 
shout  of  welcome  before  they  discovered  their  mis- 
take. 

"  Greetings !  "  cried  Morrison,  honking  his  horn 
by  way  of  salutation.  "  What  goes  on?  " 

"  The  grand  opening  of  the  season,"  cried  a 
senior  in  answer.  "  Come  up  here,  you  bloated 
aristocrat,  and  mingle  with  the  common  people  a 
while.  We're  having  some  singing  and  we  need  your 
voice." 

As  Morrison  had  no  voice,  that  was  a  palpable 
falsehood,  but  at  the  urgent  shouts  which  backed  up 
the  senior's  invitation  he  descended  from  his  car  and 
mounted  into  the  bleachers. 

"  Just  for  a  few  minutes,"  he  said,  squeezing 
himself  into  the  place  they  made  for  him.  "  That 
new  steed  of  mine  is  impatient,  and  he  wants  to  take 
another  spin.  Isn't  it  a  dandy?  Dad's  man  brought 
it  up  as  far  as  Southboro  this  morning " 

But  no  one  was  listening  to  him  now.  Over 
across  the  diamond  another  car  had  appeared,  en- 
tering by  the  Southboro  gate,  and  half  the  men  in 
the  bleachers  were  watching  it  breathlessly.  Slowly 
it  breasted  the  little  rise  of  ground  just  beyond  the 
edge  of  right  field  and  turned  into  the  cinder  track. 
The  men  were  silent.  Most  of  those  who  were  not 
looking  for  it  had  not  yet  seen  the  approaching  car, 

257 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

which  left  the  track,  and  slightly  heightening  its 
speed  began  to  cross  the  diamond. 

"  Here,  fellows !  "  called  the  baseball  captain, 
who  had  gone  over  to  the  coaches'  bench,  and,  led 
by  McCarthy,  the  players  followed  him,  wondering. 

The  car  came  nearer,  but  still  the  men  were 
silent.  The  cheer-leader  stood  with  one  arm  raised 
as  if  to  give  a  signal,  his  face  turned  to  watch  the 
approaching  car.  It  slowed  down  as  it  came  near 
the  center  of  the  field,  and,  opposite  the  bleachers, 
almost  stopped.  Everyone  was  watching  it  now. 

Sands  was  driving,  with  Colchester  beside  him. 
In  the  tonneau  were  Meredith  and  Butt,  with  some- 
thing else.  Suddenly  they  stooped  over  to  lift  it, 
and  the  cheer-leader,  still  watching  them,  threw  up 
his  other  arm  with  the  shout:  "  Come  on — now!  " 

Every  Sabrina  man  in  the  bleachers  was  stand- 
ing with  bared  head,  and  at  the  leader's  shout  they 
broke  into  their  song : 

"  All  hail,  Sabrina  dear  !  " 

But  an  instant  later  they  themselves  drowned 
their  own  singing  in  a  mighty  shout  as  the  covering 
slipped  from  the  thing  which  the  men  in  the  machine 
were  holding  up,  and  the  goddess  was  revealed.  For 
a  full  minute  the  car  stopped  and  Sabrina  was  held  in 
plain  view,  gleaming  dully  in  the  sunlight,  then  she 

258 


THE   GODDESS    HERSELF 

was  lowered  again  and  with  a  sudden  spurt  the  car 
sped  toward  the  gate. 

For  that  minute  the  odd-classmen  had  been 
stricken  motionless  by  surprise.  Then  as  they  real- 
ized what  had  happened  they  leaped  from  the  bleach- 
ers with  a  wild  yell.  The  others  tried  to  hold  them, 
and  the  ground  was  strewn  with  tumbling  forms. 
Morrison  found  himself  held  on  both  sides,  but  with 
three  sweeping  blows — and  Morrison  was  a  football 
man — he  was  free  and  had  jumped  over  the  top  seat. 

But  already  Sands  was  safe  outside,  far  up  the 
road,  and  Bill  speeding  along  beside  him,  and  the 
gate  was  closed  again,  with  Hawkins  and  his  men  on 
guard. 


CHAPTER  XI 

FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

THE  goddess  had  come  and  gone,  and  only 
one  odd-classman  had  got  anywhere  near  the 
chariot   in   which   she  was   whirled   away. 
That  man  was  Bobby  Crane. 

He  had  been  getting  a  drink  of  water  at  the 
faucet  beside  the  grand  stand  when  he  heard  the 
first  note  of  the  Sabrina  war  chant,  and,  hurrying 
out  to  learn  the  meaning  of  the  shout  that  followed, 
he  had  stood  directly  in  the  path  of  Sands's  car  as 
it  sped  toward  the  gate.  He  was  not  just  sure  what 
was  happening,  but  he  realized  plainly  that  it  had 
to  do  with  Sabrina  and  that  these  men  in  the  auto- 
mobile were  fleeing.  He  recklessly  tried  to  jump 
aboard  as  it  swerved  by,  but  they  were  ready  and 
Meredith  gave  him  a  shove  that  sent  him  tumbling 
to  the  ground.  He  was  up  again  instantly,  but  the 
car  was  already  at  the  open  gate,  with  Bill  close 
behind  it  on  his  motorcycle. 

"  Bill!  Bill!  "  he  yelled.  "  Give  me  that  ma- 
chine!" 

260 


FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

But  Bill  kept  on  without  even  turning  his  head, 
and  already  they  were  closing  the  gate  behind 
him. 

Then  came  a  fight  at  the  gate  that  is  only  wait- 
ing for  some  Tresham  bard  to  put  it  into  verse  to 
go  down  into  the  college  annals  as  another  "  Horatius 
at  the  Bridge."  Before  and  since,  Husky  Hawkins 
won  much  glory  for  himself  and  the  college  by  his 
prowess  on  the  football  field,  but  never  did  he  do 
anything  to  equal  the  carnage  he  wrought  that  day 
protecting  Sabrina's  retreat.  With  Durham  and  a 
half  dozen  others  to  help  him  he  kept  the  gate  from 
being  opened,  while  the  rest,  held  at  bay,  friend 
and  enemy  alike,  fought  among  themselves  just  in- 
side. For  a  quarter  of  an  hour  it  lasted,  then  some 
seniors  called  a  halt.  Those  who  had  been  vainly 
trying  to  climb  over  the  fence  were  allowed  to  do  so, 
and  the  gate  was  opened  for  those  who  preferred 
that  way  of  exit.  The  very  first  was  Morrison, 
raising  his  speed  in  defiance  of  every  automobile  law 
ever  made,  and  in  less  than  a  minute  he  had  disap- 
peared up  the  road. 

It  was  a  long  and  weary  line  that  straggled  up 
from  the  field  when  all  the  scrimmage  was  over. 
Many  had  run  ahead  to  learn  if  Sands  had  passed 
through  the  town,  and  which  way  he  had  gone,  but 
most  of  them  realized  that  there  was  nothing  more 
they  could  do.  If  he  was  safely  away,  they  could 
is  261 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

neither  help  nor  hinder  him,  and  the  only  chance  of 
pursuit  lay  in  Morrison  and  his  machine. 

The  thing  had  been  successfully  accomplished, 
and  the  scoffers  were  silenced.  Those  who  had  been 
guilty  of  the  numerous  posters  that  had  been  appear- 
ing through  the  winter  had  achieved  their  object: 
they  had  goaded  the  Sabrina  men  into  doing  some- 
thing daring  even  beyond  all  hopes.  But  they  had 
gained  nothing  by  it.  It  had  resulted  only  in  a 
triumphant  stroke  for  their  rivals  that  answered 
their  taunting  jibes  once  and  for  all. 

Burnet  had  been  in  the  thickest  of  the  battle, 
among  the  leaders  who  had  charged  the  gate  in  a 
vain  attempt  to  open  a  way  for  Morrison.  After  it 
was  over  he  repaired  to  the  house  to  get  cleaned  up, 
and  there  he  learned  news  of  the  fugitives. 

Donnel,  who,  because  he  was  a  junior,  had  not 
known  of  any  special  reason  for  attending  baseball 
practice  that  afternoon,  had  just  been  coming  out  of 
the  house  on  his  way  to  the  library  when  Sands's  ma- 
chine dashed  by.  He  paid  no  particular  attention  to 
it,  except  to  notice  that  it  was  going  pretty  fast,  and 
proceeded  on  his  way.  At  the  corner  of  the  South- 
boro  road  he  heard  the  distant  rumblings  of  the  fray 
that  was  then  at  its  height  down  on  the  field,  and  as 
he  stopped  to  listen,  wishing  that  someone  would 
happen  along  to  tell  him  the  meaning  of  it,  Morri- 
son came  speeding  up  the  hill,  threw  on  the  brake 

262 


FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

and  came  to  an  abrupt  stop  in  the  middle  of  the 
road. 

"Have  you  seen  Phil  Sands?"  he  demanded 
breathlessly. 

'  Yes ;  he  just  went  down  by  our  house,  full 
speed." 

"  How  long  ago?  " 

"  About  a  quarter  of  an  hour — maybe  a  little 
longer.  What's  the  matter?  " 

But  Morrison  did  not  stop  to  answer.  JHe  was 
off  again  in  an  instant  in  hot  pursuit. 

Donnel  went  on  to  the  library,  got  his  book,  and 
returned  to  the  house.  By  that  time  Burnet  had 
come  up  from  the  field,  with  a  very  wild  tale  to  tell 
of  much  fighting  and  Sabrina.  Donnel  listened  to  it 
skeptically. 

'  They  didn't  have  Sabrina !  "  he  exclaimed. 
'  They  wouldn't  have  the  nerve  to  bring  her  right 
into  town  like  that.  It  must  have  been  a  fake  statue. 
Did  you  see  it  yourself?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did!  It  was  the  real  thing,  I  tell 
you!" 

"  How  do  you  know?  You  never  saw  her  be- 
fore." 

Burnet  disdained  to  argue  against  any  such  state- 
ment as  that,  and  went  up  to  the  bathroom  to  remove 
the  stains  of  battle.  But  Donnel  followed,  eager  to 
hear  more  in  spite  of  his  skepticism,  and  Burnet  went 

263 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

over  all  the  details  while  he  splashed  about  under 
the  shower. 

"  It  makes  me  sick,"  he  ended.  "  We  may  never 
get  another  chance  at  her  for  years,  and  there  they 
walked  away  from  us  as  if  we  were  a  lot  of  helpless 
infants." 

"  Perhaps  they  won't  get  away  after  all,"  said 
Donnel.  "  Morrison's  on  their  trail,  and  if  he  once 
catches  up  with  them  there'll  be  a  mix-up  worth 
seeing.  I'm  sorry  for  Sabrina  if  he  does.  Morry 
can  manage  any  two  men  that  Phil  Sands  has  with 
him." 

Burnet  stood  stock-still  under  the  running  water. 

"How  do  you  know?"  he  demanded. 

"  I  saw  him.  I  saw  Sands  go  by  the  house,  and 
then  Morry  came  along  and  I  told  him  which  way 
they  had  gone." 

"Did  he  follow  them?" 

"  Of  course." 

"Who  was  with  him?" 

"  Bobby  Crane  and  Al  Thornton  and  Ned  Wil- 
kins." 

Burnet  turned  off  the  water,  smiling  broadly. 

"  I  guess  there  will  be  some  mix-up  if  they  get 
together.  Do  you  think  Morry's  machine  is  as  fast 
as  Phil's?" 

Donnel  did  not  know,  but  they  both  felt  that  this 
latest  Sabrina  episode  was  not  yet  closed,  and  might 

264 


FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

Still  end  in  glory  for  the  sons  of  Noughty-Odd. 
Others  thought  so,  too,  when  they  learned  that  Mor- 
rison was  in  pursuit,  and  all  the  evening  the  students 
of  Tresham  College  waited  eagerly  for  some  news 
of  the  chase. 

The  chase,  meanwhile,  was  even  more  interesting 
than  those  waiting  imagined.  As  Sands's  car  climbed 
the  little  hill  from  the  athletic  field  the  three  who  had 
been  holding  up  the  statue  breathed  long  sighs  of 
relief.  Sands  himself  was  too  intent  on  driving  the 
car  to  indulge  in  any  sighs  yet.  The  tension  of  that 
ride  across  the  diamond  had  been  greater  than  any 
of  them  realized  till  it  was  over.  Their  foreheads 
were  damp  and  their  nerves  fluttered  now  the  crisis 
was  past  and  they  could  relax  and  lie  back  in  their 
seats.  None  of  them  spoke,  except  that  Butt  mechan- 
ically arranged  the  blanket  so  it  covered  the  statue 
more  securely;  none  of  them  even  moved.  They 
simply  sat  inert,  drawing  deep  breaths. 

Up  into  the  town  they  sped,  down  the  street  past 
the  Kappa  Chi  House,  on  under  the  railroad  bridge 
and  into  the  open  country.  Bill  followed  close  behind 
them — just  why  he  could  not  have  told  except  that  he 
had  an  uncertain  idea  that  he  must  be  on  hand  if  they 
needed  help. 

As  they  began  to  climb  into  the  hills  that  lie  to 
the  east  of  Tresham,  he  pushed  ahead  and  came 
alongside  the  car. 

265 


"  There's  no  need  of  your  coming  with  us,"  said 
Meredith,  apparently  noticing  him  for  the  first  time. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  go  back?  "  asked  Bill. 

"  You  might  as  well,"  answered  Colchester. 
"  There  wouldn't  be  anything  you  could  do.  That 
thing  you're  riding  on  might  run  down,  too,  and 
you  wouldn't  want  to  get  stranded  out  here  in  the 
woods." 

"  Bobby  said  it  would  run  fifty  miles  anyway. 
He  had  some  stuff  put  in  only  the  other  day,  and  he 
hasn't  used  it  any  since." 

Bill  hated  to  be  put  off  like  that.  Here  was  ad- 
venture of  just  the  kind  he  thirsted  for,  and  he  must 
leave  it  to  others.  But  he  wouldn't  stay  where  they 
didn't  want  him,  and  he  prepared  to  turn  around. 

"  Is  there  anything  you  want  me  to  do  when  I 
get  back?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  only  to  tell  them  we've  gone  some  other 
way.  I  don't  suppose  they  know  which  road  we  took, 
but  Morrison  would  follow  us  to  San  Francisco  if  he 
thought  we'd  gone  there." 

"All  right.  Good  luck!"  And  Bill  turned 
back. 

He  rode  along  rather  slowly,  for  his  former  zest 
had  gone  out  of  the  enterprise.  Still  he  kept  a  look- 
out ahead.  If  Morrison  had  by  any  chance  taken 
this  road  it  would  not  be  hard  for  him  to  follow 
them.  The  track  of  Sands's  machine  showed  plainly 

266 


FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

in  the  road,  which  was  still  soft  and  muddy  in 
places.  Automobiles  did  not  pass  this  way  so  often 
that  there  would  be  any  doubt  about  who  had  made 
them. 

He  had  gone  perhaps  a  mile  when  he  saw  an- 
other car  some  distance  down  the  road  coming 
toward  him.  He  did  not  need  to  wait  to  see  who 
it  was.  It  could  be  no  one  but  Morrison.  He  turned 
back  again,  at  his  highest  speed,  to  warn  them.  In 
twenty  minutes  he  had  overtaken  them  again,  for 
Sands,  feeling  secure  now,  was  going  more  easily 
and  talking  with  the  other  three  over  the  way  things 
had  turned  out.  He  slowed  up  still  more  at  Bill's 
shout. 

"  Morrison's  coming,"  he  called.  "  He'll  catch 
up  with  you  in  five  minutes  at  this  rate." 

They  did  not  wait  for  anything  else.  The  car 
shot  forward  at  full  speed.  Bill  made  no  attempt  to 
follow  them.  Instead,  he  dismounted  and  wheeled 
the  motorcycle  into  the  woods  that  lined  one  side  of 
the  road.  There  were  no  leaves  yet  to  screen  him, 
but  the  trees  were  fairly  thick  and  Morrison's  party 
would  all  be  looking  ahead.  There  was  little  danger 
that  they  would  see  him.  He  meant  to  wait  till  they 
had  passed  and  then  follow  on  behind.  No  turning 
back  for  him  now. 

The  fellows  in  the  front  car  were  thinking  hard 
as  they;  flew  along.  They  had  not  counted  on  being 

267 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

followed :  they  had  not  known  until  Bill  told  them  at 
the  Southboro  gate  that  Morrison  had  a  car,  or  they 
would  not  have  taken  the  direct  way  they  were  going. 
Now  the  problem  was  not  so  much  to  outdistance 
him  as  to  elude  him.  Somehow  they  must  throw  him 
off  the  track,  for  he  must  not  know  where  they  went. 
They  had  the  statue  to  hide,  and  it  was  dangerous  for 
even  the  part  of  the  country  they  were  in  to  be 
known. 

"  There's  a  town  a  couple  of  miles  ahead,"  said 
Sands. 

They  consulted  hastily  and  decided  to  go  around 
it.  If  they  passed  directly  through  they  would  be 
seen,  and  Morrison  would  have  no  trouble  at  all  in 
tracing  them. 

Sands  knew  the  direct  way  to  where  they  were 
going,  but  not  the  byroads.  They  had  been  going 
almost  straight  east.  Now  they  turned  to  the  north, 
with  no  idea  where  it  would  bring  them,  but  hoping 
thus  to  lose  their  pursuers.  It  turned  out  to  be  a 
questionable  move,  for  they  found  themselves  in  a 
road  that  was  narrow  and  full  of  deep  ruts  where 
heavy  wagons  had  passed  through  the  mud,  which 
was  beginning  to  harden  with  the  coming  cold  of 
night. 

"  We'll  never  get  anywhere  on  a  road  like  this," 
said  Sands,  trying  to  steer  between  a  ditch  on  one 
side  and  the  deep  mud  on  the  other. 

268 


FLIGHT   AND   PURSUIT 

"  Just  keep  on  till  we  get  out  of  sight  of  the  main 
road,  then  we  can  turn  back,"  said  Colchester. 

But  luck  was  not  with  them.  Just  ahead  was  a 
huge  puddle,  stretching  clear  across  the  road.  Sands 
swore  as  he  saw  it,  and  tried  to  steer  through  what 
looked  like  the  shallowest  part.  They  were  almost 
through  when  the  car  stopped  moving.  The  wheels 
kept  going,  but  not  an  inch  did  they  progress. 

"  There  we  are !  "  exclaimed  Sands  disgustedly. 
"  We'll  have  to  get  out  and  shove  her  through. 
We're  not  out  of  sight,  either." 

"  Maybe  they  won't  think  to  look  this  way  if  they 
come  along  before  we  get  started,"  said  Colchester 
as  they  climbed  out  of  the  car. 

"  Maybe  they  won't  come  along  at  all!  "  mut- 
tered Sands  sarcastically. 

They  did  come  along,  however,  while  the  three 
were  still  pushing  and  straining  to  get  the  car  out  of 
the  mudhole.  They  heard  the  sound  of  Morrison's 
machine,  and  looking  around  saw  it,  not  a  hun- 
dred rods  away,  as  it  went  straight  on  past  the  cross- 
road. 

"  They  didn't  see  us  1  "  cried  Butt.  "  Why  can't 
we  go  back  now  instead  of  going  ahead?  They'll 
keep  on  going:  they  won't  think  they've  passed  us." 

"  That's  the  thing  to  do,"  said  Sands.  "  See  if 
you  can  push  her  backwards.  Wait  a  second!  "  and 
he  threw  in  the  reverse.  "  Now  push!  " 

269 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

That  worked  better.  The  car  moved,  and  at 
length  the  front  wheels  were  out  of  the  water. 

"  That's  all  right,"  called  Sands.  "  Wait  a  shake 
now  and  I'll  see  if  I  can't  turn  round.  It's  a  crime 
to  have  a  road  like  this  in  a  Christian  country." 

Turning  around  was  a  difficult  matter,  and  while 
Sands  was  still  maneuvering  to  accomplish  it  suc- 
cessfully, Butt  gave  a  sudden  cry  of  consternation. 

"  They're  coming  back !  "  he  exclaimed. 

It  was  so.  As  Bill  had  foreseen,  the  tracks  of 
Sands's  car  had  served  as  a  guide  to  Morrison.  He 
had  not  gone  far  past  the  cross-road  when  he  saw 
that  they  were  no  longer  visible,  and  he  had  straight- 
way turned  back  to  find  out  what  had  become  of 
them.  Crane  saw  the  stalled  car  at  the  same  instant 
that  Butt  saw  them,  and  he  let  out  a  yell  of  glee. 

"  There  they  are!  "  he  cried.  "  They're  stuck!  " 

"  Look  out  you  don't  get  stuck,  too,"  spoke 
Thornton  warningly  as  Morrison  turned  out  from 
the  main  road. 

"  We  can't  get  through  here,"  said  Morrison, 
bringing  the  car  to  a  stop.  "  What  shall  we  do?  " 

Within  hailing  distance  of  one  another,  the  two 
parties,  pursuers  and  pursued,  held  separate  councils 
of  war.  And  while  they  conferred  Bill  came  along 
on  the  motorcycle.  He  stopped  within  a  few  rods  of 
Morrison's  car,  where  Crane  was  the  first  to  catch 
sight  of  him. 

270 


FLIGHT    AND    PURSUIT 

"  Ridgeway  Bill,"  he  cried,  u  you're  a  thief  and 
a  rascal!  Do  you  realize  that  that  is  my  machine 
which  you  are  using  for  a  devilish  purpose,  and  that 
when  you  kept  it  against  my  will  you  were  commit- 
ting an  act  of  thievery?  " 

Bill  grinned. 

"  Aren't  you  planning  how  you  can  do  something 
of  the  same  kind  right  now?  "  he  asked. 

'  That  doesn't  make  any  difference.     You  hand 
over  my  property." 

"  Please,  Bobby,  I'm  not  through  with  it  yet. 
Besides,  you've  got  something  a  lot  more  aristocratic 
to  ride  in,  and  I  couldn't  get  home  if  I  didn't  have 
this." 

"  Cut  out  kidding  with  him  and  get  down  to  busi- 
ness," said  Thornton,  impatiently.  "  They've  got 
Sabrina  there  in  the  machine.  I  can  see  her  covered 
up  with  a  blanket.  Shall  we  make  a  rush  for  it  and 
fight  it  out?  " 

"  I  don't  see  what  else  there  is  to  do.  They 
won't  hand  her  over  peaceably,  though  we  might  ask 
them,  just  to  see." 

"  Come  on,  then,"  and  Thornton  jumped  out  of 
the  car.  "  You'll  have  to  leave  the  machine,  Morry. 
We  need  your  strong  right  arm." 

The  others  followed  Thornton,  who  started  to 
lead  the  way  down  the  road.  They  were  four  against 
four,  not  counting  Bill,  and  Morrison  was  worth  two. 

271 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

When  they  had  gone  about  half  the  distance  they 
stopped. 

"  Hello!  "  called  Crane  genially. 

There  was  no  reply  at  first,  then  Colchester  an- 
swered : 

"  Hello." 

"  You  have  something  with  you  we  want  very 
much,"  Crane  went  on. 

"  We  haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  Colchester  re- 
sponded. 

"  Will  you  hand  it  over  to  us  in  a  kindly  and  gen- 
tlemanly fashion,  or  shall  we  come  and  get  it?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  try  to  come  and 
get  it." 

"  Oh,  very  well.  You  compel  us  to  do  something 
that  is  extremely  distasteful,  but  I  suppose  you  know 
your  own  minds.  Come  on,"  Crane  added,  starting 
forward  again.  Sands  had  finally  got  his  car  turned 
around  and  the  other  three  were  getting  into  it  again. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  loud  report,  as  of  a  gun 
being  fired,  from  Morrison's  auto.  Morrison  turned 
with  an  oath.  Another  report  followed,  and  a  few 
seconds  later  another. 

"Look  what  he's  doing!"  he  cried,  running 
back,  with  the  others  following. 

During  the  interchange  of  words  between  Crane 
and  Colchester,  Bill  had  been  hunting  through  Mor- 
rison's tool  kit  for  something  pointed.  He  found 

272 


FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

what  he  was  looking  for,  and  with  it  proceeded  de- 
liberately to  puncture  Morrison's  tires.  As  Morri- 
son started  running  back  a  fourth  report  told  that 
the  job  was  completed.  Bill  tossed  the  tool  into  the 
tonneau  with  a  laugh  and  mounted  the  motorcycle 
again.  He  retreated  to  the  cross-roads  and  there 
dismounted  to  await  further  developments. 

Morrison  surveyed  the  ruin,  swearing  fluently. 

"  That  fixes  us,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I've  only  got 
two  extra  tubes." 

"  Looks  like  first  blood  for  the  other  side,"  re- 
marked Crane.  "  Ridge  Bill,"  he  added,  raising  his 
voice,  "  that's  your  second  offense  to-day.  You'll  be 
a  hardened  criminal  if  you  aren't  careful." 

"Will  you  be  serious,  Bobby?"  cried  Thornton 
angrily.  "  This  isn't  getting  Sabrina  or  anything 
else." 

"  What's  the  use  of  getting  sore?  "  asked  Crane 
placidly.  "  If  I  can't  fight  in  a  nice  friendly  fashion, 
I  won't  fight." 

"  You're  the  limit,  that's  all  I  can  say,"  said 
Thornton,  disgustedly. 

"  They're  going  to  try  to  get  by!  "  cried  Wilkins, 
looking  back. 

They  were,  for  a  fact.  With  head  bent  low 
Sands  was  sending  his  car  forward  full  speed.  He 
would  have  to  turn  into  the  ditch  to  avoid  crashing 
into  Morrison's  disabled  machine,  but  by  good  luck 

273 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

and  brushing  close  he  might  get  by.  Thornton  and 
Wilkins  braced  themselves  to  spring  at  the  car  as  it 
passed,  while  Morrison  hunted  feverishly  about  in 
his  tonneau  for  the  pointed  tool  Bill  had  used,  long- 
ing wrathfully  to  give  some  return  for  those  punc- 
tured tires. 

Crane,  meanwhile,  had  coolly  taken  his  stand  in 
the  ditch,  directly  in  the  path  of  the  oncoming  car. 

"  Get  out  of  the  way,  you  fool !  "  cried  Thornton 
in  alarm.  "  You'll  get  run  over!  " 

"  No,  I  won't,"  responded  Crane,  serenely. 
"  They'll  stop  before  they'll  do  that." 

He  was  right.  Sands  was  already  putting  on  the 
brake  and  Crane  broke  into  a  low  laugh  at  the  effec- 
tiveness of  his  simple  little  move,  when  Bill  inter- 
fered again.  With  a  long,  low  dive  he  tackled  Crane 
football  fashion,  flinging  him  safely  over  the  ditch 
and  leaving  the  path  clear.  He  was  up  again  and 
scudding  back  to  the  motorcycle  before  Crane  could 
pick  himself  together,  and  it  was  too  late  now  for 
him  to  repeat  his  maneuver.  Sands  was  already  driv- 
ing past,  but  the  slowing  up  had  spoiled  his  impetus, 
and  the  car  wallowed  and  almost  came  to  a  stop  as 
it  struck  the  ditch.  Thornton  and  Wilkins  both 
sprang  for  the  back  seat,  which  Colchester  was  help- 
ing to  defend,  but  they  were  two  against  three  and 
the  advantage  with  the  three.  The  best  they  could 
do  was  to  drag  out  Meredith  with  them  as  they  fell 

274 


They  came  speeding  on,   desperately  trying  to  improve  every 
minute  they  had  gained." 


FLIGHT    AND    PURSUIT 

back  to  the  ground.  It  had  been  a  brief  fight,  barely 
a  minute  long,  which  Morrison  had  wasted  in  a  vain 
attempt  to  find  Bill's  tool  of  destruction. 

"  Keep  on!  "  cried  Colchester  to  Sands  as  they 
swerved  into  the  middle  of  the  road  again.  "  We're 
free  of  them  now,  and  they'll  take  care  of  Merry." 

So  they  kept  on,  turning  back  into  the  main  road 
and  on  in  the  direction  they  had  taken  at  first.  Bill 
had  gone  on  ahead,  and  he  slowed  up  to  wait  as  they 
came  speeding  on,  desperately  trying  to  improve 
every  minute  they  had  gained  on  their  pursuers. 

"  Effie !  "  cried  Butt,  "  can't  we  take  Bill  along?  " 

Sands  began  to  slow  up  before  Colchester  had 
time  to  answer. 

"  He  deserves  to  come  if  he  wants  to,"  he  said. 

"  Come  on,  Bill!  "  called  Colchester.  "  Shake 
that  contrivance  you've  got  and  ride  like  a  gentle- 
man. You'll  have  to  work  your  way,  though." 

Bill  was  willing.  He  got  into  the  tonneau  with 
Butt,  grinning  joyfully. 

"  Bobby  wants  his  machine,  anyway,"  he  said. 
"  He  began  teasing  me  for  it  even  before  we  left 
Tresham.  I  guess  he'll  find  it  there,  all  right." 

And  on  they  sped  again. 

"  That  was  a  great  stunt  of  yours,  spoiling  their 
tires,"  exclaimed  Butt  in  admiration. 

"  It  will  hold  them  there  for  a  while.  How  long 
before  they  can  fix  them,  Phil?  " 

275 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

"  An  hour  and  a  half,  anyway,  and  probably 
more.  I  don't  believe  he's  got  four  new  tires," 
Sands  shouted  back  without  turning  his  head. 
"  We've  got  that  much  start  on  them,  anyway." 

A  town  lay  ahead  of  them,  and  they  went  more 
slowly  till  they  had  passed  through  its  quiet  streets. 
Then  their  way  lay  among  the  hills  again,  by  a  rough 
and  narrow  road  that  made  rapid  going  impossible. 
Here  dusk  began  to  fall  upon  them,  and  now  that  the 
sun  was  gone  the  chill  March  night  set  them  to  shiv- 
ering. 

"  I  guess  we'll  need  that  blanket  more  than  old 
Sabrina  will,"  exclaimed  Bill,  his  teeth  chattering. 

"  There  are  some  robes  under  the  seat,"  said 
Sands.  "  You'd  better  get  them  out." 

It  was  an  odd-looking  earful  that  passed  through 
the  next  town,  each  man  muffled  closely  in  a  big  lap- 
robe,  but  it  was  dark  now,  and  few  people  saw  them 
as  they  sped  silently  through  and  on  up  the  valley 
that  lay  beyond. 

"  We'll  hit  the  state  road  pretty  soon  after  we 
cross  this  next  ridge,"  said  Sands.  "  Then  we  can 
let  her  out." 

For  hours  they  kept  on,  through  cities,  towns  and 
quiet  villages,  with  stretches  of  lonely  countryside 
between.  Bill  crouched  down  under  his  blanket, 
shivering  now  and  then  with  something  that  was 
more  than  cold.  Pressing  against  his  knee  was  the 

276 


FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

statue.  By  reaching  out  his  hand  he  could  touch  her. 
What  wouldn't  hundreds  of  men  back  in  Tresham 
give  to  be  where  he  was  now? 

He  did  not  know  where  they  were,  but  he  didn't 
ask.  Sands  was  the  guide  now,  with  a  definite  goal 
ahead  of  him,  and  only  once  did  they  stop.  That  was 
to  eat,  which  they  did  hastily  at  a  little  lunch  cart  in 
a  small  town  through  which  they  passed,  while  Sands 
visited  the  local  bicycle  repairer,  who  also  kept  auto- 
mobile supplies,  and  laid  in  a  fresh  supply  of  gaso- 
line. Then  they  were  off  again,  for  their  destination 
was  still  hours  away. 

Suddenly  Bill  sat  up  straight  with  an  eager  sniff. 

"Do  you  smell  it?"  he  exclaimed.  "It's  the 
ocean  I  " 

"  We'll  be  there  in  an  hour  more,"  said  Sands 
shortly. 

After  a  time  they  came  within  sight  of  the  sea, 
and  their  way  led  along  a  road  that  wound  in  and 
out  among  flat  salt  marshes.  On  their  right  the 
water  gleamed  cold  and  silvery  under  the  moon,  and 
a  biting  wind  blew  inland,  keen  with  the  smell  of  the 
salt  ocean. 

"Gee,  I'm  hungry!"  exclaimed  Butt.  "Will 
there  be  anything  to  eat,  Phil?  " 

"  I  guess  we  can  find  something.  We're  'most 
there  now." 

A  sharp  turn  took  them  through  a  wood  of  dark 
19  277 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

pines,  then  a  short  stretch  of  open  road  to  a  tall  gate- 
way in  a  wall  of  stone.  Sands  stopped  the  car  and 
got  out. 

"  We're  here,"  he  announced,  fumbling  in  his 
pocket  for  some  keys.  In  fifteen  minutes  they  were 
inside  a  big  cottage,  searching  in  the  cellar  for  fire- 
wood. In  another  a  huge  fire  was  blazing  in  the  hall 
fireplace,  with  the  four  cold  and  weary  fugitives  rav- 
enously eating  crackers  before  it. 

"  I  don't  believe  there's  another  thing  to  eat  in 
the  place,"  said  Sands  apologetically.  "  I  thought 
there  was  some  canned  stuff  somewhere  but  I  can't 
find  it." 

"  These  crackers  help  tremendously,"  said  Col- 
chester, stowing  away  another  mouthful. 

Just  inside  the  doorway  stood  Sabrina,  the  fire- 
light striking  dull  gleams  from  her  smooth  bronze 
surface.  With  a  cracker  in  each  hand  Bill  stood 
gazing  at  her. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  her?  "  asked  Colchester. 
"  Rather  well  preserved,  isn't  she,  for  a  lady  of  her 
years  and  adventures?  " 

Bill  did  not  answer.  The  sight  of  that  war-worn 
statue  gave  him  a  strange  feeling  that  made  him  for- 
get to  eat.  It  was  like  a  thrill,  only  somehow  it 
choked  him,  too,  and  brought  a  sudden  warmth  into 
his  throat  and  behind  his  eyes.  It  was  only  a  piece  of 
brass,  of  no  great  beauty  even  in  the  days  before 

278 


FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

it  had  been  so  knocked  about  as  the  plaything  of  a 
lot  of  boys.  But  those  very  boys  had  fought  for  her 
with  the  same  splendid  ardor  that  would  have  car- 
ried them  forward  under  the  fire  and  smoke  of  bat- 
tle, and  paid  her  an  homage  that  was  no  less  loyal 
because  it  was  the  homage  of  youth,  rendered  half 
playfully  and  in  a  year  or  two  to  be  looked  back  upon 
with  a  smile.  Would  years  and  wisdom  bring  any- 
thing that  could  inspire  quite  the  same  joyous,  whole- 
hearted devotion  that  this  scarred  old  goddess 
awoke,  if  only  for  a  fleeting  minute,  in  the  hearts  of 
her  followers? 

"  It — it  sort  of  gives  you  a  queer  feeling,  doesn't 
it?  "  asked  Butt,  and  with  a  start  Bill  realized  that 
the  others  were  standing  at  his  side. 

"  That's  what  makes  it  worth  while,"  said  Col- 
chester, and  his  tone  had  dropped  the  jaunty  note  of 
a  moment  ago.  "  I  don't  know  exactly  what  it  is 
— perhaps  it's  what  she  stands  for  to  us,  sticking  to- 
gether and  all  that — but  there  aren't  many  things 
that  give  you  the  thrill  this  old  statue  does  when  you 
first  see  her."  Colchester  was  a  senior,  but  he  was 
not  yet  very  old. 

Sands  turned  back  to  the  fire  and  threw  another 
piece  of  wood  on  the  blaze,  which  broke  the  spell 
that  had  settled  upon  them. 

"  I  suppose  she's  safe  enough  anywhere  here  in 
the  house  for  the  time  she'll  need  to  be  here,"  he 

279 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

said,  coming  down  to  practical  matters.  "  But  I 
thought  it  would  be  a  good  stunt  to  put  her  down 
cellar.  We  can  bury  her  under  the  woodpile  there 
and  all  the  odds  in  Christendom  couldn't  find  her." 

"  It'll  give  her  a  change,  anyway.  I  wonder  if 
she  was  ever  hidden  under  a  woodpile  before?  " 

"Where  did  you  have  her,  Effie?"  asked  Bill. 
"Can't  I  know  now?" 

Colchester  laughed. 

"  I  don't  see  why  not.  I  left  her  stored  in  a 
warehouse  down  in  New  York  last  year,  and  then 
this  fall  I  had  her  sent  home,  and  put  in  the  barn 
there."  He  paused,  his  eyes  twinkling. 

"How  long  was  she  there?"  demanded  Bill 
eagerly. 

"  Till  Christmas  time.  She  was  in  a  box  in  an 
empty  stall  for  a  while,  with  a  lot  of  other  old  rub- 
bish, and  then  when  I  found  out  the  Musical  Clubs 
were  going  to  perform  in  town  at  Thanksgiving,  I 
thought  I'd  make  certain  sure  about  having  her  safe, 
so  she  was  buried  down  in  the  barn  cellar.  I  have 
since  learned  that  that  was  a  wise  precaution,  for 
if  it  hadn't  been  done  she  would  have  been  dis- 
covered." 

"How?  "asked  Sands. 

"  Oh,  someone  suspected  that  I  had  charge  of 
her,  and  he  got  a  hunch  to  look  in  that  barn.  And 
he  looked." 

280 


FLIGHT   AND    PURSUIT 

"That  was  you,  Ridge  Bill!"  cried  Butt. 
"Wasn't  it,  now?" 

Bill  looked  too  guilty  to  make  it  worth  while 
denying  the  accusation.  A  kind  of  shame  was  still 
uppermost  in  the  mingled  feelings  with  which  he 
remembered  that  Thanksgiving  night's  adventure. 
But  the  others,  even  Butt,  thought  it  was  a  good 
joke. 

"  Then  during  the  first  part  of  Christmas  vaca- 
tion I  took  her  down  to  New  York  again,  to  have 
her  there  for  the  banquet,  but  when  that  didn't  come 
off  I  took  her  back  to  Tresham.  It  has  been  a  good 
many  years  since  she  was  there  last,  and  I  thought 
she  might  like  to  have  a  look  at  the  old  town  again. 
She's  been  there  till  this  afternoon." 

"  Then  you  didn't  even  have  to  leave  town  to 
get  her?" 

"  We  did  leave  town  and  rode  around  the  coun- 
try a  little  while,  but  that  was  all  a  bluff.  We  got  her 
at  exactly  half-past  three  this  afternoon." 

"  I  think  we'd  better  be  putting  her  away  again 
if  we  want  to  get  any  sleep  at  all  to-night.  It's  after 
twelve  now,  and  we  want  to  be  away  from  here  be- 
fore daylight,"  said  Sands. 

"  All  right:  lead  the  way,"  said  Colchester. 

It  took  an  hour  to  conceal  the  statue  to  their  sat- 
isfaction. When  it  was  done  they  stretched  out  on 
the  floor  in  front  of  the  fire  for  a  little  sleep:  the 

281 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

beds  upstairs  were  too  damp  to  be  useable  without  a 
lot  of  drying  out.  It  was  still  dark  when  Sands  awoke 
them  again. 

"  It's  time  we  were  starting,"  he  announced. 
"  You'd  better  get  some  more  blankets.  They're 
upstairs  in  the  front  room.  It's  grown  a  lot  colder." 

It  had  indeed.  With  all  their  class  spirit,  they 
grumbled  as  they  helped  put  out  that  lovely,  warm 
fire  and  took  their  seats  in  the  waiting  machine. 
But  it  was  Sands  who  had  the  hard  time.  The 
others  curled  themselves  up  and  got  some  sleep,  but 
there  was  no  more  sleep  for  Philip  till  he  got  back 
to  college. 

They  reached  Southboro  late  in  the  forenoon, 
and  took  the  trolley  car  from  there  to  Tresham, 
that  their  return  might  be  as  inconspicuous  as  pos- 
sible. Bill  went  straight  to  his  room  for  a  nap,  and 
Butt  with  him,  and  Colchester  had  to  run  the  gaunt- 
let of  questions  that  awaited  him  at  the  house  alone. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  FINISH 

A  they  soon  learned,  Morrison  had  become 
discouraged  and  returned  to  Tresham,  with 
difficulty,  the  night  before,  disgusted  with  the 
pursuit.  For  two  hundred  separate  hopes  died  when 
the  tidings  spread  that  he  had  come  back  empty- 
handed,  and  among  them  a  vigorous  one  that  had 
been  carefully  nursed  all  the  evening  by  Theodore 
Burnet. 

"  We  don't  deserve  to  get  Sabrina,  anyway !  " 
he  exclaimed,  disgustedly.  "  I've  always  tried  to 
make  myself  believe  it  was  luck  that  has  helped 
them  keep  her  all  this  time,  but  there's  something 
besides  that.  They've  got  something  we  haven't, 
that's  all.  You  can  call  it  nerve  or  courage  or 
anything  you  like,  but  if  we'd  been  the  ones  with 
that  statue  and  they'd  got  as  near  to  it  as  we 
did,  they'd  have  managed  to  get  her  away,  I'll  bet 
on  it."  ' 

For  Meredith  had  told  his  tale  with  great  gusto, 
and  all  Thornton's  and  Morrison's  denials  could  not 

283 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

down  it.  The  four  who  had  spent  the  night  at  the 
beach  found  that  they  were  heroes  on  their  return  to 
college  and  were  besieged  for  their  individual  ver- 
sions of  the  adventure. 

Each  had  some  particular  item  to  add  that  the 
others  had  overlooked,  and  altogether  it  made  an- 
other very  interesting  chapter  to  add  to  the  history 
of  the  goddess.  But  regarding  what  had  happened 
after  they  left  Crane's  motorcycle  lying  by  the  road- 
side, none  of  them  had  a  word  to  say.  Meredith  was 
the  only  man  in  Tresham  College  who  heard  the  rest 
of  the  tale. 

Only  one  thing  made  Bill  uneasy,  and  when  he 
told  it  to  the  others  they  laughed  at  him.  Crane  had 
not  yet  returned.  According  to  Meredith,  he  had 
picked  up  his  discarded  machine  and  announced  that 
he  was  going  to  continue  the  pursuit  by  himself. 
Since  then  they  had  not  seen  him. 

"  He  followed  us:  that's  what  he  did,"  exclaimed 
Bill. 

"  He  couldn't  have,"  said  Colchester  confidently. 
"  You  know  yourself  you  couldn't  keep  up  with  us  on 
that  thing  of  his  when  we  were  really  going,  and  we 
really  went  after  we  left  them.  Even  if  he  could 
have  tracked  us  for  a  while — and  I  don't  believe  he 
could — his  old  engine  would  have  given  out  before 
he'd  been  forty  miles.  Do  you  know  we  went  nearly 
a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  last  night?  " 

284 


THE    FINISH 

"  Well,  I  won't  feel  easy  till  I  see  him  back  in 
town  and  know  where  he's  been." 

"  You'll  see  him  back,  all  right,  when  he  gets 
ready  to  come,  but  I  doubt  if  you  find  out  where  he's 
been  unless  he  happens  to  want  to  tell  you.  Bobby 
Crane  does  queer  things  and  goes  to  queer  places 
when  he  goes  away,  and  he  usually  has  sense  enough 
not  to  tell  about  them." 

Crane  did  not  return  till  a  day  later,  and  as  Col- 
chester had  prophesied,  he  kept  his  own  counsel  as  to 
where  he  had  been.  He  cast  an  alluring  air  of  mys- 
tery about  it,  but  those  who  knew  him  well  knew  also 
that  he  always  did  that,  and  would  not  gratify  him 
by  appearing  curious. 

Nor  would  Bill,  for  he  saw  at  once  that  it  would 
do  no  good.  Crane  made  an  elaborate  pretense  of 
shying  away  when  he  saw  Bill  coming. 

"  Ridgeway  Bill,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  come  near 
me,"  he  said,  retreating  precipitately.  "  You're  a 
thief  and  a  despoiler  of  other  men's  property,  and  I 
don't  want  to  be  corrupted  by  your  society." 

Bill  grinned  as  if  he  enjoyed  the  little  joke  thor- 
oughly. 

"  I  returned  your  motorcycle  in  excellent  condi- 
tion, and  you  lent  it  to  me  of  your  own  free  will." 

"  That's  dodging.  You  borrowed  it  under  false 
pretenses.  Ridgeway,  you  are  '  Old  Slouch  '  no 
longer.  That  was  a  title  of  honor  and  esteem,  which 

285 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

I  gave  you  under  the  mistaken  idea  that  you  were  an 
honest  man.  And  you  turn  out  to  be  a  Raffles  in- 
stead! " 

Which  was  as  serious  as  anything  Bill  could  get 
out  of  him.  But  his  uneasiness  was  not  allayed.  Not 
till  he  knew  positively  where  Crane  had  gone  when 
he  left  Morrison  and  the  others  would  he  be  satis- 
fied that  Sabrina's  present  hiding  place  was  not  in 
danger.  He  resolved  to  keep  a  watch  on  Crane, 
which  was  no  easy  thing  to  do,  because  not  only  did 
Crane  live  away  across  the  town  from  him,  but  he 
had  played  detective  with  Bill  too  often  in  fun  not  to 
know  his  methods.  The  best  Bill  could  do  was  to 
watch  for  him  in  the  places  where  he  was  accustomed 
to  seeing  him — in  chapel,  at  certain  recitations,  on 
the  street,  and  at  not  too  frequent  visits  to  Crane's 
fraternity  house. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  Bill's  fears  had  more  founda- 
tion than  he  knew.  Crane  had  followed  Sands  and 
his  car  for  only  a  few  miles  that  day  and  then  seen 
that  it  was  a  useless  effort.  But  he  knew  where 
Sands's  summer  home  was,  and  putting  two  and  two 
together,  according  to  Bill's  own  way,  had  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  that  was  where  they  might 
have  taken  the  statue.  Leaving  his  motorcycle  in  a 
garage  he  had  gone  on  to  the  shore  by  train,  not  with 
any  immediate  hope  of  finding  Sabrina,  but  to  learn 
whether  Sands  had  been  in  the  neighborhood  or  not. 

286 


THE   FINISH 

That  proved  a  difficult  thing  to  learn,  for  Sands  had 
come  and  gone  by  night,  when  the  few  people  who 
lived  thereabouts  were  safe  at  home  and  in  bed;  but 
he  persevered,  and  the  results  of  a  long  day's  in- 
quiries quite  satisfied  him.  He  had  finally  found  an 
old  man  who  lived  close  to  a  railway  crossing  which 
it  was  his  business  to  stand  guard  over  at  train- 
passing  time,  and  in  return  for  a  cheap  cigar  he  fur- 
nished Crane  with  the  information  that  twice  during 
the  night  he  had  heard  an  automobile  pass — once  at 
about  eleven  o'clock  and  the  second  time  at  about 
dawn. 

That  was  as  much  as  Crane  could  learn  for  the 
present.  The  chances  were  that  the  automobile  had 
been  Sands's,  and  on  that  supposition  he  set  about 
making  plans.  These  plans  could  not  be  put  into 
action  right  away,  however. 

Sands  would  be  leaving  with  the  Musical  Clubs 
for  their  Easter  trip  in  two  weeks,  provided  he  was 
successful  in  getting  off  a  condition  that  otherwise 
would  compel  him  to  stay  at  home.  When  he  was 
safely  started  on  this  trip,  Crane  had  a  most  care- 
fully laid  scheme  to  carry  out.  It  was  a  bold  scheme, 
but  its  very  boldness  was  the  only  thing  that  could 
make  it  succeed. 

The  Easter  vacation  was  to  commence  on  a 
Thursday,  and  the  clubs  were  to  leave  for  the  first 
concert  of  their  trip  that  morning.  Crane  planned 

287 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

to  leave  town  Thursday  morning  also,  but  a  casual 
visit  to  Sands's  room  caused  him  to  change  suddenly. 
Sands  was  very  doubtful,  apparently,  about  being 
able  to  go  on  that  trip.  The  condition  was  not  made 
up,  and  he  was  not  at  all  confident  that  he  could  pass 
the  examination  which  a  well-wishing  professor  was 
to  vouchsafe  unto  him  at  the  last  minute.  If  he 
couldn't  he  was  going  home. 

This  casual  visit  of  Crane's  took  place  on  Mon- 
day. He  left  the  same  night  for  Boston,  where 
Sands's  family  lived  in  the  winter.  The  carrying  out 
of  his  scheme  required  even  more  boldness  than  he 
had  counted  on  at  first,  but  Crane  was  nothing  if  not 
bold. 

It  worked  beautifully.  By  Tuesday  noon  he  had 
presented  himself  at  the  Sands's  city  house  as  a  col- 
lege mate  of  Philip's,  told  a  most  plausible  story  to 
Mrs.  Sands,  and  left  with  the  key  to  their  seaside 
home  in  his  pocket. 

By  eleven  o'clock  Tuesday  morning  Bill  knew  for 
a  fact  that  Crane  had  left  town,  and  was  closeted 
with  Sands,  telling  the  fears  that  fact  had  aroused  in 
him. 

"You're  nutty,  Bill!"  exclaimed  Sands,  impa- 
tiently. "  Clean  out  of  your  head!  Crane  hasn't  any 
idea  we  went  down  to  the  Bay.  How  could  he  have  ? 
He  couldn't  have  followed  us." 

"  Of  course  I  can't  prove  it  to  you,  and  it  may 
288 


THE   FINISH 

be  all  nonsense.  But  I  haven't  been  able  to  shake 
the  idea  that  he  was  up  to  something  when  he  didn't 
come  back  with  the  rest  of  his  crowd  that  night. 
Even  if  it  does  turn  out  to  be  foolishness,  it  won't 
cost  anybody  anything  but  a  little  time  to  do  as  I  ask. 
I've  had  hunches  like  this  before,  and  they've  always 
turned  out  to  be  good  ones.  If  Crane  hadn't  gone 
away  I'd  give  it  up  and  not  say  a  word — but  he's 
gone!" 

"  He's  gone  home,  of  course!  " 

"  I  don't  think  he  has.  He  didn't  take  any  trunk 
with  him,  and  he  didn't  tell  anybody  he  was  going 
home." 

"  Well,  he  wouldn't  go  down  to  our  place  on  the 
Bay — I  know  that.  It  would  be  too  risky.  He 
knows  that  if  I  don't  pass  this  exam  I'll  be  going 
down  there  myself.  I  told  him  that  only  yesterday." 

But  Bill  made  still  another  argument  out  of  that. 

"  That's  why  he's  gone  now,  instead  of  waiting 
till  to-morrow,"  he  argued  patiently. 

"  You'd  make  something  out  of  nothing  if  you 
couldn't  find  anything  else,"  grumbled  Sands. 
"  What  is  it  you  want  me  to  do?  " 

"  Just  go  down  there  and  make  sure  everything 
is  safe." 

Sands  looked  at  him  as  if  he  were  beyond  hope. 

"  Just  go  down  there  ?  Why,  man  alive,  I've  got 
to  spend  fourteen  hours  out  of  every  twelve  plugging 

289 


THE   NEW    SOPHOMORE 

on  this  exam.  Do  you  suppose  I'm  going  to  give  up 
my  last  chance  to  go  on  a  Glee  Club  trip  while 
there's  any  chance  left  at  all?  " 

"  Then  let  me  or  somebody  else  go." 

"  Oh,  you  can  do  any  crazy  thing  you  want  to. 
Here's  the  keys  to  the  place  and  I'll  give  you  a  cer- 
tificate of  character,  'phone  home  to  mother  to  send 
someone  down  to  open  the  place  up,  or  anything. 
Only  don't  expect  me  to  stir  from  this  room  till  that 
exam  is  over,  except  to  obtain  nourishment." 

So  it  was  arranged,  and  Sands  spent  a  precious 
twenty  minutes  telephoning  to  his  mother,  for  he  was 
a  hospitable  person  and  he  wanted  the  house  to  be 
habitable  when  Bill  got  there.  It  would  have  to  be 
made  so  in  a  week  or  two,  anyway.  The  twenty  min- 
utes of  telephoning  lengthened  itself  into  twenty 
more,  however,  and  Sands  was  seething  with  excite- 
ment when  it  was  over.  The  next  half  hour  he  spent 
sending  telegrams  and  giving  directions  to  Bill. 

"  You  leave  on  this  next  car,  and  you'll  get  to  the 
Bay  by  five  o'clock.  What  do  you  think?  That  man 
Crane  has  bamboozled  mother  with  some  tale  about 
my  sending  him  down  there  for  the  class  because  I 
was  just  leaving  on  the  Glee  Club  trip,  and  she's 
given  him  the  keys  and  sent  William  along  to  help 
him!  He's  got  the  finest  nerve  of  anyone  I  know. 
Now  I've  fixed  it  up  this  way.  Mother  is  going  to  get 
busy  and  get  word  to  William  somehow — William 

290 


THE    FINISH 

is  our  chauffeur — so  you'll  find  him  ready  to  help 
you,  and  I've  telephoned  to  old  Johnson,  who's  the 
town  constable  down  there.  I  think  Bobby  Crane  will 
find  he's  in  quite  a  mess.  By  George,  I've  half  a  mind 
to  chuck  the  whole  business  and  go  down  myself!  " 

But  he  didn't.  Bill  went  alone,  and  arrived  at 
the  Bay  late  in  the  afternoon  to  find  William  and  old 
Johnson  in  possession,  with  Crane  imprisoned  in  the 
kitchen,  smoking  a  cigarette. 

"  Old  Slouch,  as  I  live  and  breathe !  "  he  ex- 
claimed as  Bill  entered.  "  And  I  dared  to  think  I 
could  outwit  you!  " 

"  Are  you  Mister  Bill?  "  inquired  Mr.  Johnson, 
who  was  not  aged  at  all,  but  a  very  able-bodied  town 
constable. 

"  Here  are  my  credentials  from  Phil  Sands,"  said 
Bill,  handing  over  the  letter  Phil  had  given  him. 

Mr.  Johnson  read  it  carefully. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  I  should  do  with  this 
feller?  "  pointing  to  Crane. 

"  If  you  can  just  see  that  he  stays  right  here  for 
a  while,  until  we  get  things  fixed  up,  I  guess  it  will  be 
all  right." 

"  Oh,  I'll  see  to  that,  all  right.  Right  here  he'll, 
stay  till  you  give  the  word." 

Crane  took  out  another  cigarette  and  lighted  it. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  you  are  making  yourself 
liable  to  a  good  deal  of  trouble  by  keeping  me  here 

291 


THE   NEW   SOPHOMORE 

if  I  happen  to  want  to  leave,  don't  you,  Mr.  John- 
son?" he  asked  quietly. 

"  Now  don't  you  talk  to  me  about  getting  into 
trouble,  young  man!  If  young  Mister  Sands  wa'n't 
minded  to  let  you  off  easy  you'd  be  liable  to  go  to 
jail  for  bein'  an  uncommon  slick  house  thief." 

"  Oh,  very  well.  But  remember,  I  warned  you," 
Crane  remarked  calmly.  "  So  the  fair  Sabrina  is 
really  here,  is  she?  "  he  added  to  Bill.  "  I  thought 
so,  but  I  wasn't  sure  till  the  stalwart  William  here 
informed  me  that  I  wasn't  to  stir  out  of  this  kitchen 
till  you  arrived.  I  might  have  known  'Old  Slouch' 
would  be  on  the  job  somewhere.  What  are  you 
going  to  do?  " 

"Got  another  cigarette?"  asked  Bill,  sitting 
down  on  the  edge  of  a  table. 

"  Sure."     Crane  handed  him  his  cigarette  case. 

"  I'm  going  to  let  you  have  a  look  at  Sabrina," 
Bill  said,  striking  a  match.  "  I  think  it's  coming  to 
you  after  all  this  trouble." 

"  You  are  too  kind!  "  murmured  Crane. 

"  I'm  going  to  ask  you  to  help  us  unbury  her,  if 
you  will.  And  then  I'm  going  to  take  her  away,  and 
after  I've  been  gone  about  ten  or  twelve  hours  Mr. 
Johnson  will  let  you  go,  too." 

Crane  blew  out  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  peered  at 
Bill  through  it,  biting  his  underlip  meditatively. 
Then  he  stood  up  abruptly. 

292; 


THE   FINISH 

"  All  right:  let's  get  busy,"  he  said. 

Bill  led  the  way  down  cellar  and  the  attack  on 
the  woodpile  began.  It  took  only  a  little  while  to 
pull  it  down,  and  for  the  second  time  in  many  years 
Sabrina  was  revealed  to  the  eyes  of  those  who  were 
not  her  followers. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  mind  very  much,  Bobby,  but 
I  wish  you'd  go  upstairs  again  now,"  said  Bill. 
"  There's  a  little  ceremony  going  to  take  place  down 
here,  and  I'm  sorry,  but  you  haven't  any  right  to 
see  it." 

"  Far  be  it  from  me,"  Crane  rejoined  cheer- 
fully, and  started  up  the  stairs  with  Mr.  Johnson  at 
his  heels. 

The  next  hour  was  spent  in  packing  the  statue. 
Darkness  had  come  when  it  was  finished,  and  Bill 
went  upstairs  again. 

"Everything  settled?"  inquired  Crane. 

"  Everything,  and  I'm  going  to  leave  you  in  Mr. 
Johnson's  loving  care.  He'll  see  that  you  get  the 
five  o'clock  train  for  Boston  to-morrow  afternoon. 
Good-by,"  and  he  held  out  his  hand.  "  Do  you 
know,  Bobby,  I'm  sorry  you're  not  a  Sabrina  man-=a 
you'd  make  such  a  good  one." 

Crane  shook  the  offered  hand  and  smiled. 

"  I'm  rather  sorry  you  are  a  Sabrina  man,"  he 
replied.  "  If  you  weren't,  I'd  probably  be  one  my- 
self by  now^^but  there  are  lots  of  times  coming.  I 
20  293 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

don't  wish  you  very  much  hard  luck,  but  I  hope  you 
get  caught." 

And  so  Bill  left  him. 

The  Easter  vacation  and  the  Easter  trip  were 
over.  Sands  passed  his  exam  after  all,  so  he  and 
Colchester  and  Tod  Smith  had  their  last  trip  to- 
gether; and  because  it  was  their  last  trip  and  they 
were  seniors  they  acted  worse  than  freshmen  and 
had  a  fine  time  of  it.  Now  it  was  over,  they  did  not 
go  directly  back  to  Tresham,  but  went  to  New  York 
instead,  for  another  last  fine  time. 

Bill  and  Butt  went  to  New  York,  too,  for  the 
same  purpose,  only  with  them  it  was  to  be  the  first 
fine  time.  There  they  stayed  in  hiding,  with  a  mys- 
terious-looking box  concealed  in  their  closet,  waiting 
for  the  night  of  the  day  when  college  should  open 
again. 

When  that  night  came  there  were  a  great  many 
other  Tresham  men  in  town,  for  Herbie  Nichols  had 
not  been  posted  as  to  certain  plans  this  time,  and  they 
worked  without  a  hitch. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  mysterious  box,  and 
Bill,  Butt  and  Colchester  with  it,  left  a  certain  hotel 
by  way  of  a  side  door,  an  alleyway,  and  a  large, 
covered  moving  van.  It  took  over  two  hours  for 
this  van  to  make  its  journey,  which  lay  through  many 
side  streets  and  crowded  thoroughfares  and  ended  at 

294 


THE   FINISH 

another  hotel,  not  ten  minutes'  walk  from  the  one 
where  it  had  started.  All  this  was  to  throw  anyone 
who  might  be  on  the  look-out  off  the  track.  Whether 
the  driver  of  the  van  was  exceptionally  good  at  his 
job,  or  there  was  no  one  on  the  look-out,  the  journey 
was  completed  in  safety  and  the  box  was  delivered 
into  a  small  room  adjoining  a  large  room,  in  which 
many  tables  were  laid  for  eating. 

It  was  in  this  room  that  the  many  men  from 
Tresham  gathered,  and  sat  them  down  to  feast.  At 
the  center  of  the  longest  table  sat  Robert  B.  Chanler, 
the  toastmaster  of  the  evening.  Among  those  who 
sat  at  another  table,  round,  not  long,  were  Wilbur 
Durham,  zd,  Thomas  Jefferson  Gray,  John  Haw- 
kins, John  Michael  McCarthy  and  Ridgeway  Bill, 
Jr.  Those  about  still  another  table  included  Mere- 
dith, Tod  Smith,  Sands  and  Colchester.  And  there 
were  a  hundred  others  just  as  important  and  having 
just  as  good  a  time. 

It  was  a  most  joyful  occasion,  with  most  appetiz- 
ing things  to  eat.  The  soup  had  already  been  dis- 
posed of,  and  the  fish,  though  that  which  had  been 
placed  before  Meredith  and  Colchester  was  still  un- 
touched, for  they  had  suddenly  and  mysteriously  van- 
ished. Once  more  the  empty  plates  were  taken  away, 
but  when  the  door  opened  again  there  appeared,  not 
more  food,  but  Sabrina,  the  heroine  of  the  feast, 
borne  by  Colchester  and  Meredith.  Slowly  they 

295. 


THE    NEW    SOPHOMORE 

brought  her  in,  while  the  chandeliers  rattled  with  the 
cheer  that  rose  to  welcome  her.  The  cheer  died 
away  as  they  set  her  down  in  the  center  of  the  room, 
and  for  a  minute  there  was  silence  as  another  even- 
year  class  gazed  on  its  goddess. 

Bill  stood  looking  over  Gray's  shoulder.  It 
seemed  to  him  there  was  an  air  almost  pathetic  in 
that  sitting  figure,  as  if  she  were  mutely  appealing  to 
them  for  something,  and  again  he  felt  that  inward 
surge  of  loyalty  that  had  welled  up  within  him  when 
he  first  saw  her  in  the  firelight  down  in  that  silent 
house  by  the  ocean. 

He  was  wondering  if  the  others  were  feeling  the 
same  way,  when  he  suddenly  heard  Butt  rapping 
loudly  on  the  table  to  attract  attention. 

"  Before  we  go  through  the  ceremony  that  is 
always  gone  through  at  this  time,"  he  began,  raising 
his  voice  so  that  everyone  in  the  room  might  hear, 
"  I  want  to  tell  you  something  that  most  of  you  don't 
know.  Just  a  month  ago  to-day  Sabrina  appeared 
in  Tresham  for  the  first  time  in  more  years  than  any 
of  us  can  tell.  You  all  saw  her,  just  for  a  minute, 
and  many  others  saw  her  who  will  never  see  her 
again.  You  know  what  happened  afterwards,  and 
that  she  was  safely  taken  away  and  hidden  again. 
But  she  was  not  so  safe  as  we  thought.  We  did  not 
know  it,  but  one  of  the  juniors  found  her  hiding 
place,  and  we  should  not  be  having  this  banquet  to- 

296 


THE    FINISH 

night  if  it  were  not  for  one  man.  That  is  Ridge  Bill, 
who  saved  her  for  us.  Billy,  come  over  here !  " 

A  whole-hearted  shout  burst  forth  as  those  be- 
hind him  pushed  Bill  forward,  till  he  stood  at  Butt's 
side.  He  was  grinning  happily,  but  the  choky  feel- 
ing in  his  throat  had  grown  and  he  would  have  found 
it  hard  to  speak.  He  looked  down  at  Butt,  who  laid 
one  hand  on  his  shoulder  and  went  on  with  his 
speech. 

"  Perhaps  we  can  get  him  to  tell  us  all  about  it 
later,  but  first  we  must  salute  our  goddess.  Every- 
body get  in  line,  and — what  do  you  say,  fellows? — 
Bill  shall  lead  us!" 

"  Lead  on!  Lead  on!  "  they  cried,  falling  in  be- 
hind him.  And  singing  their  oft-sung  battle  chant 
— to-night  a  song  of  praise — the  long  line  began 
slowly  moving  forward  to  pay  to  the  goddess  her 
accustomed  homage. 


(2) 


THE  END 


BY  WILLIAM  O.  STODDARD. 


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Anthony  Wayne. 
By  JOHN  R.  SPEARS. 

Champlain :  The  Founder  of  New  France. 

By  EDWIN  ASA  Dix,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  Formerly  Fellow  in 
History  in  Princeton  University ;  Author  of  "  Deacon  Brad- 
bury," "  A  Midsummer  Drive  through  the  Pyrenees,"  etc. 

James  Oglethorpe :  The  Founder  of  Georgia. 
By  HARRIET  C.  COOPER. 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


BY  HEZEKIAH  BUTTERWORTH. 

The  Young  McKinley. 

Illustrated,     12010.     Ornamental  Cloth,  $1.50. 

Mr.  Butterworth  portrays  the  future  President  at  school,  where,  after  a  bitter  dis- 
appointment, the  crusty  old  school-teacher,  who  has  a  good  heart  beneath  his  severe 
exterior,  says  to  him  :  Never  mind,  you  may  be  President  yet."  He  traces  President 
McKinley's  career  through  his  army  days  to  the  time  when  he  was  preparing  for  that 
great  political  career  which  made  the  blow  that  struck  him  down  at  the  height  of  his 
glory  a  blow  to  the  whole  United  States. 

Brother  Jonathan ;  or,  The  Alarm  Post  in  the  Cedars. 
A  Tale  of  Early  Connecticut.     Illustrated,    iamo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 

In  the  Days  of  Audubon. 

A  Tale  of  the  "  Protector  of  Birds,"  Illustrated  by  B.  West  Clinedinst 
and  others,  izmo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 

In  the  Days  of  Jefferson ;  or,  The  Six  Golden  Horseshoes. 
A  Tale  of  Republican  Simplicity.     Illustrated  by  F.  T.  Merrill.    $1.50. 

The  Story  of  Magellan. 

A  Tale  of  the  Discovery  of  the  Philippines.  Illustrated  by  F.  T.  Merrill 
and  others.  $1.50. 

The  Treasure  Ship. 

A  Story  of  Sir  William  Phipps  and  the  Inter-Charter  Period  in  Mass*' 
chusetts.  Illustrated  by  B.  West  Clinedinst  and  others.  $1.50. 

The  Pilot  of  the  Mayflower. 

Illustrated  by  H.  Winthrop  Peirce  and  others.    $1.50. 

True  to  His  Home. 

A  Tale  of  the  Boyhood  of  Franklin.  Illustrated  by  H.  Winthrop  Peirc*. 
$1.50. 

The  Wampum  Belt ;  or,  The  Fairest  Page  of  History. 

A  Tale  of  William  Penn's  Treaty  with  the  Indians.  With  6  full-pag» 
Illustrations.  $1.50. 

The  Knight  of  Liberty. 

A  Tale  of  the  Fortunes  of  Lafayette.   With  6  full-page  Illustrations.    $1.50. 

The  Patriot  Schoolmaster. 

A  Tale  of  the  Minutemen  and  the  Sons  of  Liberty.  With  6  full-pagt 
Illustrations  by  H.  Winthrop  Peirce.  $1.50. 

In  the  Boyhood  of  Lincoln. 

A  Story  of  the  Black  Hawk  War  and  the  Tunker  Schoolmaster.  Wttll 
la  Illustrations  and  colored  Frontispiece.  $1.50. 

The  Boys  of  Greenway  Court. 

A  Story  of  the  Early  Years  of  Washington.  With  10  full-page  Illustra- 
tions. $1.50. 

The  Log  School-House  on  the  Columbia. 

With  13  full-page  Illustrations  by  J.  Carter  Beard,  E.  J.  Austen,  and 
ethers.  $1.50. 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


STORIES  FOR  YOUNG  READERS 


JOURNEYS  OF  THE  KIT  KAT  CLUB.    Illus- 
trated.    8vo.     $2.00  Net. 
By  WILLIAM  R.  A.  WILSON. 

A  beautifully  illustrated  volume  filled  with  interesting  and  salient 
features  of  English  history,  folk-lore,  politics,  and  scenery. 

BUTT   CHANLER,   FRESHMAN.    Illustrated. 
I2mo.     $1.30. 

By  JAMES  SHELLEY  HAMILTON,  Amherst  '06. 
College  sports  are  always  a  subject  of  interest  to  young  readers, 
and  here  are  incidents  that  are  dear  to  all  college  associates. 

"The  story  is  breezy,  bright,  and  clean." — The  Bookseller,  New 
York. 

WILLIAMS  OF  WEST  POINT.    Illustrated.    I2mo. 

$1.50. 

By  Lieut.  HUGH  S.  JOHNSON. 

A  story  of  West  Point  under  the  old  code.  "  Every  boy  with 
red  blood  in  his  veins  will  pronounce  it  a  corker." — The  Globe, 
Boston. 

THE  SUBSTITUTE.     Illustrated.     I2mo.     $1.50. 

By  WALTER  CAMP. 

"  Presents  the  ideal  to  football  enthusiasts.  The  author's  name 
is  guarantee  of  the  accuracy  of  descriptions  of  the  plays." — The 
Courant,  Hartford,  Conn. 

THE    FOREST    RUNNERS.      Illustrated  in    Color. 

I2mo.     $1.50. 

By  JOSEPH  A.  ALTSHELER. 

This  story  deals  with  the  further  adventures  of  the  two  young 
woodsmen  in  the  history  of  Kentucky  who  were  heroes  in  "  The 
Young  Trailers."  The  story  is  full  of  thrills  to  appeal  to  every  boy 
who  loves  a  good  story. 

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